Alternative Rebirth
by Nellark
Summary: What if James and Lily survived the war? What if Voldemort was killed on 31st October 1981? How different would Harry's life be? AU - If James & Lily had survived. FEATURES EVERYONE. James X Lily. Re-write of "Alternative"
1. Prologue: Merlin's Mercy

_A/N: This is a re-boot of "Alternative". James X Lily AU- they survive. That sums it up nicely. _

_oOo_

Prologue: Merlin's Mercy

It was a night that would never be forgotten, Lily knew that much. She gazed at the scene around her disbelievingly. Her home was destroyed, the roof having blown off and the medieval plaster walls still crumbling away from where the blast had happened minutes before in Harry's room. Bright orange flames roaring violently, licking the cloudy night sky and wafting great plumes of black smoke up into the atmosphere. They looked like Death Eaters circling. It made her shiver.

Lily was sat in on the edge of the fountain in the centre of the village, a blanket having been slung around her arms from nowhere. She felt drunk. Minutes ticked by and she registered nothing. Bathilda Bagshot was constantly soothing her, but Lily heard nothing. Alastor Moody kept asking her questions, but she couldn't respond. Even Harry, whose voice usually tugged at her heart so easily, could not bring her back to the present with his cries. Bathilda had eventually tried to lift him from Lily's arms, but Lily could not let go. It was as though he would die if she let go.

Bits of her home were scattered around her front garden: planks of wood, shreds of carpet, tangled wires and broken bits of glass, singed curtains and curtain poles bent in half... on any other day, she might have been distraught. They did not have the money for refurbishment...

But among the debris of her ruined home was a crumpled body, lifeless and as cold as it had ever been.

Lily could not see the body, nor could anyone else, but she knew it was there. James had thrown his invisibility cloak over it so as not to scare the handful of children who'd been awoken by the blast and were now peering through Lily and James' garden fence for a closer look.

_Voldemort's dead, Voldemort's dead, Voldemort's dead... _that was all she heard.

Little old dears were stood together in packs, whispering about the explosion, what had caused it, _who _had caused it, and whether it was anything to do with the war.

The war. It was all over. Everything they had been fighting for had ended in, of all places, Harry Potter's nursery.

Harry squirmed in Lily's arms, distracting her from her racing thoughts. He pointed with a chubby finger to the shadowy pathway down the side of their house, where a figure was running up towards the scene.

"Dah!" said Harry.

James Potter was in a state, wheezing for breath, his hair a complete mess, running around the village in his pyjamas and dressing gown. His face and neck were still peppered with soot.

"They're on their way," he wheezed when he reached the fountain, clutching his knees and gasping for breath. "So's the muggle Prime Minister..." he gulped in a deep breath, then stood up straight. "She wants to see the body herself, just to be safe..."

_Safe._ That was a rare word.

"I don't know why you covered it," muttered Moody darkly. "I'd have ripped his head off, put it on a spike and paraded it around the village..."

"Yeah, well, we ran out of spikes," breathed James.

"James, dear," began Bathilda, still rubbing Lily's back. "I think your wife's gone into shock. She's been a little hazy since the aurors arrived."

Lily forced herself to wake up when James crouched down in front of her. She would regret not being fully alert for this moment. She would want to remember the end of the war.

"Lily?" asked James, sounding worried.

"I'm fine, " said Lily, finally looking at him and managing a smile. An hour ago, she'd almost watched him die. "It's just a lot to take in."

James laughed weakly. "Yeah... but there's no rush."

A sudden commotion started outside their burning house. James spun round. From within the shadowy pathway came a whole legion of important-looking people. Two aurors power-walked into view, their arms held out to their sides to create a barrier between any potential threats and the people behind them.

Albus Dumbledore swept into view, as did Kingsley Shacklebolt, Sirius Black, a young blonde woman in a black power suit, a short dumpy man, the Minister of Magic and the muggle Prime Minister.

James held out his hand to Lily, who took it and stood up. James lead Lily towards the congregation with a hand on her back and another down by his side, close to his wand pocket.

The flames that were slowly dying in what remained of their house were scorching. The village burned like an August afternoon.

The Minister of Magic, Millicent Bagnold, was a formidable woman. She was stern, strong and serious-faced, with a razor-sharp tongue and a quick wit with the press. She noticed James and Lily approaching them immediately.

"Here they are now, Mrs Thatcher," Bagnold muttered quickly to the short woman with the puffy orange hair.

"Mr Potter," said Bagnold seriously. "Is it true? Is he..."

"See for yourselves," said James, letting go of Lily and opening the garden gate. The aurors entered the garden behind James, followed by the two ministers and their advisors, then Sirius and Kingsley. Lily lingered at the gate with Harry, looking round to see if anyone would follow her in, but nobody seemed to dare. Lily stepped through the gate and closed it behind her.

For the audience of villagers, it looked as though the congregation were gathered around a large patch of grass.

"Brace yourselves," said James, reaching down and clutching something that ruffled. He whipped off the invisibility cloak. Tears gathered in Lily's eyes immediately.

"I say!" exclaimed the muggle Prime Minister, clutching Bagnold's arm. "An invisible sheet!"

"Albus," said Bagnold shakily, her eyes fixed on the limp body before her. "Is he dead? We must be absolutely sure..."

Dumbledore bent down so that his face was inches from the back of the body's head. Tentatively, he reached out and put a hand on the body's shoulder. He rolled it over.

Nobody spoke. Voldemort's beady eyes were glassy and unfocused, his mouth hanging open, one side of his face covered in blood.

Dumbledore pointed his wand at Voldemort's face. "_Finite Incantartem," _he said in a low voice. Nothing happened. Dumbledore looked up at Bagnold with a solemn expression. "Minister, with your permission..."

"No," Bagnold said firmly. "I'll do it."

"Do what?" asked the muggle Prime Minister. She looked round at the darkened expressions of the group. "Millicent, what will you do?"

"Isabelle, my wand."

The young blonde witch scrambled around inside her black briefcase and pulled out a wand. She handed it to Bagnold. Bagnold clenched her jaw together as she pointed the wand at Voldemort's body.

_"Avada Kedavra,"_

Nothing happened.

"What good did that do?!" demanded the muggle Prime Minister. "What did that do?!"

"Nothing," said Bagnold with a dark smile. "It did nothing. It would have killed him, but he was already dead... he is truly finished."

Lily sniffed loudly, the reality of what happed crashing down on her. The group turned to look at her, with James leaping over Voldemort's body and rushing towards her.

"He's gone, Lily. Everything's fine now."

Then, the widest smile she'd ever managed spread across her face. She even laughed. "Finally."

"I say, young lady!" called the muggle Prime Minister, who approached her. "Who's this young man?" she gestured to Harry.

"This is Harry, Madam. My son."

"Well!" The Prime Minister grinned at him, brushing his cheek with her finger. "I daresay he is a very lucky chap to have such heroic parents. You should be proud of yourselves."

"Thank you..." said Lily. Thoughts of a safe and happy future raising Harry with James flooded her mind. They were vague and undecided. She looked at James. "What happens now?"

"We burn the body," said Dumbledore.

"Minister, " said Isabelle, Bagnold's advisor, timidly. "May I suggest that we keep the body in a coffin at the ministry so that members of the public may see it... you know, so that they know for definite. _Then _we can burn his body and lock the ashes in a vault at Gringotts... in one of the secret vaults."

The group stared at her, impressed.

"That was much better than my suggestion!" exclaimed Dumbledore cheerily. "Miss Sommier is a credit to your ministry, Millicent!"

Isabelle blushed pink and grinned.

"So be it," said Bagnold. "Thank you, Isabelle. I shall entrust you to organise the vault. Kingsley, your men may take this..." she glanced down at the body with disgust. "this... _thing _down to the holding cell in the Department of Mysteries."

With that, Bagnold walked back down the gravel path and out of the garden gate, where a significant crowd had gathered. Bagnold stood in front of them, with the rest of the group slowly gathering behind her.

"_Members of the wizarding world,_" she began loudly, attracting the attention of all. "_I have an important announcement to make._.."

"Mama!" said Harry, pointing somewhere behind her. She glanced round. Dumbledore was blasting water from his wand over the house, extinguishing the flames with a loud hiss. Harry watched, mesmerized. "Spassshhhh..." he whispered.

Lily grinned at her son, who was oblivious to everything.

"_The tyrannical monster, Lord Voldemort, is dead._"

There were screams, mostly gasps, and the babble of talk. At the back of the crowd, several journalists were already scribbling away with quills in notebooks.

_"He was destroyed here, at this house, by the combined force of The Potter Family. His vicious tirade against pureblood and muggle-born integration has been ended by the arduous work of their friends and colleagues."_

Lily's mind went straight to Marlene McKinnon, who'd died screeching defiant exclamations of rebellion at Voldemort. Lily's heart jolted.

_"The wizarding world will have their chance to see the body in due course... but for now, we shall celebrate the dawn of a new era."_

Lily and James' house lay dead behind them. Where were they to live? What were they to do? What would the next few days entail?

_"We will remember this day as one of liberation and victory. Our world is safe once more, because of the bravery of our kind. Times are changing. We can now face those times surrounded by the love and acceptance of our families and friends."_

Lily thought of Petunia and the sisterly relationship that she'd failed to fight for all these years. She'd have another chance now. She had a second chance at all things now.

"_To those who followed Voldemort's crusade, I say this: This is the end. The ministry and its allies will continue to defend the liberty of our kind as fiercely as our fallen heroes fought... and to those who rejoice at this news, I say this: We will only remember Voldemort as the face of what happens to wizards who seek to usurp the harmony of our world and underestimate the strong will of our loyal people. Our world remains defended."_

_oOo_

_A/N: To the readers of the original "Alternative", how was that? Better than before?_

_To everyone else: Review and await eagerly the next chapter. Gosh, how mind-blowingly exciting._

_P.S: go to my profile page and you can follow me on Tumblr_


	2. For Love

For the first time in what seemed like centuries, James Potter was carefree, outdoors, unprotected. He'd spent hours galloping across the Hogwarts grounds with Padfoot at his side, hardly believing that his wife and son were safe in the hospital wing. Days ago, he wouldn't have dreamed of leaving them alone. Now, Lily had willingly forced him out of the door.

Sunset was precious. The sky, mountains, castle and lake glowed amber. The warmth was so delicious that James transformed back into a human, just to bask in it and rub his hands over his face and hair, practically washing in the sun's rays. Padfoot did not laugh at him. He understood, and rolled over onto his belly to warm.

James sat beside his canine friend on the bank of the lake and looked up at the castle, where students were in their common rooms celebrating the death of Voldemort. "D'you miss the old days, Padfoot?" he asked. Padfoot gave a lazy growl in response.

"Quite," said James. "I much prefer the present to the past."

He still missed the escapades of his youth, though. Everything seemed more exciting when he was young. "We had some interesting adventures, didn't we..." he mused. The dog rolled over and watched him. "But we were annoying."

Padfoot barked. James smiled. "Annoying... naive... _dramatic,_" he glared at Padfoot. "... we were inseparable."

Suddenly, many of his Hogwarts memories turned sour. The nostalgia was still there, but the foreshadowing angered him. "Poor, podgy, prattling Peter Pettigrew..." he growled. "Where d'you think he is?"

Padfoot snarled, but lowered his head. He had no idea, neither did James, who sighed in frustration and looked back at the lake. Several hippogriffs were flying over the lake, their silhouettes casting long elegant shadows in the still waters. James smiled at the tranquility. It was astounding that he was here to enjoy it.

He leapt to his feet when he saw a figure approaching them from over the hill. He then saw that it was Lily. Padfoot barked again.

"This is madness, Padfoot," he groaned. "I keep expecting _him _to burst back into life, hell bent on avenging his own death..." Lily waved at him and beckoned him over. "Back in the forest, my friend," James instructed Padfoot. "I think it's time."

Padfoot charged across the embankment into the forest, where he'd left his clothes hanging on a tree. James jogged to meet Lily, who was without Harry.

She smiled sadly. "It starts in fifteen minutes," she said. "Madam Pomfrey's got Harry. We'll get him before we go. Dumbledore says we can use his floo network."

James nodded. "Who's going to be there?"

Lily sighed. "Me, you, Sirius, Remus, Dumbledore, some of the teachers, Bagnold and some of her lot... Augusta Longbottom..."

James looked up at her, frowning. She looked upset too. "Augusta... and I think some of the Prewetts."

James swallowed thickly. "I'm not looking forward to this, Lily."

Lily took a deep breath. "We've been through worse."

James chuckled darkly. "Yep." he looked over at the sunset, which was illuminating more clouds pink and red as it descended behind the mountains. "What did Madam Pomfrey say?" he asked, his eyes still trained on the beautiful horizon.

"That I'm fine, and Harry's fine too."

"That's good then."

"It is."

James looked at his wife, who was grinning at the lake.

"What's so funny?" asked James.

"Nothing."

"What are you so smiley for?"

Lily laughed. "It can wait." Then, her smile faltered. "We'd better get this over with."

James took his wife's hand and lead her back to the castle with Sirius running to catch them up. His stomach knotted with dread.

When emotions were running high, an honouring of the dead was something of a catalyst for a purging of grief.

oOo oOo oOo

Millicent Bagnold's office was a vast round room of deep blue brick and panels of glass, which looked down upon the rest of the main junction of the Ministry. It was kept warm with a permanent charm and hundreds of books were crammed into curved shelves all over the room. Bagnold's desk was littered with pictures of her many young grandchildren. Whilst they waited, Lily stood holding Harry, looking from the pictures on Bagnold's desk to the scene below, where the Minister stood on a platform addressing the crowds of rejoicing witches and wizards, who were all gathered around a glass coffin containing Voldemort's corpse.

"Can you hear what she's saying?" asked Sirius.

Lily shook her head. "Something about the future, something about prosperity..."

"Something she got Isabelle Sommier to write for her and spent months learning off by heart in case Voldemort snuffed it?" suggested Sirius with a smirk.

"Be fair," Lily scolded. "This is a big historical moment. She has to say something powerful or else it's just... embarrassing."

"Don't worry, Lily," said James. "He's bound to big-up his new girlfriend."

Sirius winked.

At that moment, the office door swung open. Isabelle Sommier walked in, grinning.

"This gentlemen claims he's your friend..." she said, stepping aside.

"MOONY!" shouted James, bounding across the room towards him. Both he and Sirius swallowed Remus Lupin in an embrace.

He looked awful, just like he did before a full moon. He closed his eyes as his friends engulfed him, silently thanking whichever deities were responsible for their survival. "You're alive..." he breathed. "You're alive..."

"Fighting fit!" beamed James, pulling away. "Which is more than can be said for Voldemort."

James and Sirius lead him to the window where Lily stood. Remus looked down at the crowds below, and the coffin that contained the reason for their joy. Again, Remus sighed with gratitude.

No longer able to contain herself, Lily flung her arm around Remus' neck. "Lovely to see you again, Moony," she spoke into his shoulder.

"Likewise, Lily," he hugged her tightly back. He kissed Harry on the forehead, cooing to him about being a brave boy.

Someone at the door cleared their throat. Remus and Lily parted, all four of them looking at Isabelle, Bagnold's advisor, who'd coughed.

"If you'd like to follow me..." she said, before exiting the room. Sirius rushed after her, not bothering to hold the door open for his friends. James smirked.

"There must be a joke in there somewhere about giving a dog a bone..."

Lily slapped him on the arm. James made a pretend 'shocked' face at Harry, who giggled.

oOo oOo oOo

Voldemort's tomb was a mile underground. It was small, dark, damp and empty. Lily and James stood with their friends and a number of other gathering people at the very bottom of the Gringott's cave, where the safest vaults on the planet were kept. It was hot. Lily had to take Harry's jumper off and cast a cooling charm on him to stop him from wailing.

Lily had wondered if it had been inappropriate to bring Harry to the ceremony, but e was not the only child in the cave.

A plump red-haired woman stood with a red-haired man, clutching a bundle of pink blankets. Amelia Bones, one of the few faces that Lily recognised, was stood with a man and a woman who between them held a little girl who was Harry's age.

Augusta Longbottom was void of emotion. She'd practically turned to stone, holding a squealing baby boy in her arms. It made Lily's eyes sting to recall the many coffee mornings she'd spent with Alice Longbottom, each taking turns to gush about how excited they were for the births of their children. Alice should not have been deprived of watching her son grow up.

"Are you alright?" asked James quietly, as more people were escorted in and helped down onto the flat rock by goblins.

"It's heart-breaking," said Lily. "Alice, Frank, The Prewetts, Dorcas, Marlene...they were all just _weeks _away from being here, seeing this..." she glared at Voldemort's corpse. "It's so unfair!"

Lily's voice had echoed. The red-haired woman who was holding the bundle of pink blankets gave Lily a watery smile, which Lily reciprocated. They were both there to honour the people they'd lost.

Finally, Millicent Bagnold appeared through the tunnel with Dumbledore, McGonagall, Isabelle and the plump man from the night of Voldemort's death. She waved off the assistance of the goblins, seemingly knowing this part of Gringotts already.

Her shoes clacked against the flat stone as she walked, her gaze locked on Voldemort, her expression solemn. She came to stand in front of the gathered mourners, blocking Voldemort from view.

"Thank you all for coming," she spoke quietly, the cave providing ample echo for her voice to be heard by all. "In a strange way, I think we have all been looking forward to this day for a very long time..."

The small sniffs and quiet sobs had already started.

Bagnold looked behind her at Voldemort's face. She stared for a long time, truly reflecting on the horrors that he inflicted on the wizarding world. "The only funeral he ever deserved was one filled with hatred..." she said thickly. "... and those sentiments are certainly shared among us today..."

Lily allowed herself to look around at the gathering, at the relatives of those who'd died. It was painful to see faces so similar to those who'd died. It was like being teased with the possibility of them being alive again.

"... but we also come together in our never-fading love of those he took from us..."

Neville's cry rang out throughout the cave and Lily's tears over-spilled. Part of her wanted to hand Harry over to James, for the guilt she felt for being able to hold her son still was overwhelming. _Alice should be here, Alice should be here, Alice should be here..._

"... and that's what makes us the better people, I think. We fought for love, whereas he fought for power. Our losses were so much greater and each one ripped a hole in our lives, yet still we won."

Sobs threatened to wrack Lily's body. She forced them back. The tighter she gripped Harry, the tighter he gripped her. The tighter he gripped her, the more aware she was of the sacrifices they made.

"We now commit Voldemort's body to the dark emptiness in which he always belonged."

Bagnold, Dumbledore and McGonagall wielded their wands and magically lifted the glass coffin up from the granite slab on which it lay. They muttered incantations under their breaths. As they did, the glass pannels separated and floated gloomily into other parts of the cave, all the while Voldemort's body remaining afloat. Bagnold flicked her wand and Voldemort's body drifted into the vault. He was lowered onto a bed of sticks and kindling.

Lily smiled darkly to herself. It was ironic that Voldemort would be destroyed in the same way that muggles disposed of witches and wizards in medieval days. That was what he deserved.

One by one, members of the gathering stepped forward and shot a spark the size of a match flame from their wand, pouring as much emotion as they had into the motion.

Augusta Longbottom was the first to send a spark. She handed Neville to Isabelle and walked forward slowly, coming to stand in front of the vault entrance. She held her wand out.

"For Frank and Alice."

Her spark leapt from the tip of her wand into the bed of sticks, where it glowed orange where it had embedded.

The red-haired woman stepped forward, passing her baby daughter to her husband. Her chin wobbled as she fought back tears.

"For... f-f-for..." she whimpered. Her husband, too, was teary. "For Fabian and Gideon."

Once her spark had left her wand, she fell to pieces. McGonagall rushed over and helped her back to her place, as an elderly man hobbled forward with the assistance of Isabelle.

He held up his wand.

"For Caradoc."

Amelia Bones stepped forward with the man and woman who'd accompanied her. Tears poured freely down the faces of all three adults. Amelia and the man held up their wands.

"For Edgar," they said together.

Sirius and Remus stepped forward together. Lily was surprised to see Sirius in tears. He never cried. Usually, he was the one teasing Remus for it.

"For Benjy," said Remus.

"For Dorcas," said Sirius.

Finally, it was Lily and James' turn. They walked towards the vault which was now glowing orange. The growing flames were just grazing Voldemort's body.

Lily raised her wand. "For Marlene," she said clearly. She aimed the spark right into the heart of the flames, and Voldemort's body was then alight.

It took magic to close the vault door, which weighed tonnes. The goblins held up their bony hands and the vault door creaked as it slowly shut, trapping Voldemort into his tomb forever.


	3. To Regroup

**To Regroup**

"Can you see him?" called James from upstairs.

Lily scanned the living room. The floor of Harry's nursery had collapsed in the blast, leaving a gaping hole in the lounge ceiling and the roof. White November daylight shone onto the fallen plaster, snapped wood beams and shattered light fixture which had smashed the coffee table and sprayed the fireplace in white flecks of dust. The jet of light had flashed throughout the house, singeing anything made of fabric. The sofas, carpets, rugs and curtains were all burnt, blackened and smoky. The bookcase in the corner had collapsed, pouring singed books into the chaotic mix of mess. The same had happened with the drinks bureau. Lily gently kicked a fallen wood-beam and listened closely. She waited several seconds before responding.

"No... if he's in here, he's..." she looked up at the ceiling, where James' head was poking out through the side of the gaping hole.

"He'll turn up," he assured her. "Don't worry."

Lily sighed as James ploughed on, digging up what few items that weren't destroyed in Harry's bedroom. Lily herself continued to work.

"_Tuppy..._come here, boy..." she cooed to the room, hoping to hear a faint meow. She stepped over the wood beam and clambered in to the main mountain of clutter. She picked up two large slabs of plaster, one of which crumbled in her hand and rained back onto the floor. Lily sighed in frustration and tossed the other slab of plaster into the corner of the room. She pulled apart the splintering remains of the coffee table to find the wicker basket of old _Daily Prophet _copies and baby toys which they'd kept under the coffee table since they'd moved in. She picked up a surprisingly unbroken colourful plastic object. On further inspection, she recognized it to be the baby rattle that Petunia had sent as Harry's first Christmas present. There were tiny teeth marks all over the handle, but the gift had arrived that way. Lily had never seen Harry play with his cousin's cast-off.

The sight of the toy tugged at Lily's heart. She dropped it back on the floor (sentiments aside, it was definitely useless now) and reached in to her trouser pocket. She pulled out a bit of parchment that she'd had on her person for the past two days. Once again, she opened it up and read it over.

_Dear Petunia, _

_I hope you are well. I imagine you've got your hands full these days, what with Dudley being almost two now. It's been so long since I last saw him, I don't even know what he looks like. I imagine he has your lovely hair. _

_I'm writing to let you know that our address has changed. Our house is badly damaged. It's repairable, but James and I both feel that a change of scenery would do us good. I will send you the details soon._

_I would so love to see you again, and little Dudley. Recent events have prompted me to write this, to ask if there is any chance of us meeting soon. It seems silly to have to beg, but I fear that we've reached that point in this ridiculous enmity. Please see reason, dear sister. _

_All my love, _

_Lily. _

It was the best she could do. She would have to send it soon. She tried to picture Petunia opening the letter and glancing at the name at the bottom. It was unlikely that she would pay the letter any heed, particularly if her husband was in the room at the time. As a matter of fact, Vernon had been the subject of every sentence Lily had had to restrain herself from putting in. _Don't show Vernon this letter. I imagine Vernon is fuming that I've written to you. How is your marriage? I'd so love to be reunited with you and Dudley. _

Then, she heard a high-pitched squeal coming from the front garden. Within seconds, she had leaped over the debris and sprinted into the garden.

Harry was sitting in the only patch of grass that was not scattered with roof tiles. A huge black dog was nuzzling his hair.

"Woof!" said Harry. He turned round and scanned the garden in search of his mother. When he spotted Lily, he grinned. He pointed at Padfoot and looked back at Lily, as if to show her what he'd found. "Woof!"

Lily couldn't help but smile. "Yes, Harry," she walked over to the pair, folding up the letter and shoving it back into her pocket. She sat down cross-legged behind her son. "Can you say 'dog'?"

"Woof!"

"No, Harry, say..." but she stopped.

The groups of wizards and witches from all over the country had been arriving in Godric's Hollow since Bagnold's speech, just to get a glimpse of the house where Voldemort was killed. Unfortunately for them, James had cast enchantments deeming it invisible to anyone they didn't know. It would have been a funny sight, watching dozens of witches and wizards wandering around the village looking lost and confused, but Lily found the whole affair sinister. She shouldn't have felt the need to keep a close eye on those with clunky cameras around their necks.

CRACK.

Both Lily and Padfoot jumped as Dumbledore apparated right outside the garden gate with a newspaper tucked under his arm.

"Professor..." Lily began, scrambling to her feet. "Did you talk to Scrimgeour? How bad is the situation?"

"Albus, dear Lily, it's Albus," Dumbledore smiled. "May I enter your humble abode?" he asked, looking up at the crumbling house. At his words, Lily became a little self-conscious of her and James' possessions that were scattered all over the lawn and in all of the hedges.

"Er - by all means," she moved to open the gate, but should have guessed that Dumbledore would be able to merely wave his hand over the lock and have it slide across. The gate swung silently open and Dumbledore stepped into the garden.

"Albus..." Lily began, noticing how strange it sounded to call her old Headmaster by his first name. "Please tell me you've just been to the Ministry."

"Lily, I have just been to the Ministry," he said. Padfoot barked.

"And?" Lily probed. "What did Scrimgeour say? Are we still in danger or not?"

Dumbledore sighed. "I did not speak to Rufus as I had planned. It seems he was overseeing the plans for a rather tricky auror mission." Dumbledore took the newspaper from under his arm and held it out for Lily to see. On the front page, Millicent Bagnold was flanked by ministry officials. Her advisor, Isabelle, stood at the very edge of a long line of heads of department. Rufus Scrimgeour was next to Bagnold, both of them beaming at the flashing light bulbs of press cameras. They and the other ministry officials were holding up long flutes of sparkling beverage, dressed in fine but casual clothing. The headline above read _"Ministry Celebrates Despite Desperate Death Eater Hunt"_

It felt as though a cold stone had dropped in Lily's stomach.

Noticing Lily's anxiety, Dumbledore put an arm around her shoulders. "I would advise you all not to lose your heads over this," he said calmly. "You would be surprised at eclectic range of reactions that Voldemort's death provoked among the Death Eaters..."

"What do you mean?" asked Lily as she heard her husband run down the rickety staircase indoors.

"Well," Dumbledore sighed. "The Death Eater army was hardly a democracy. Your killing of Voldemort freed more people than you might think..."

_Your killing of Voldemort._ Perhaps that was why people were flocking to see The Potters. Perhaps they misunderstood the events of that night.

"Albus, I-"

"Professor!" James joined them, shaking bits of plaster out of his hair. "Do you bring good news?"

"That entirely depends on your nature of interpretation, James," smiled Dumbledore. "I sincerely doubt that any previous followers of Voldemort are planning to lay siege upon your home, but I do suggest that you find somewhere..." he glanced over his shoulder at the growing crowds of wizards. "..._quieter_... to regroup."

James nodded, his eyebrows contracting slightly in his confusion.

Without another word, Dumbledore turned and walked back out the garden gate. He stepped right in to the throng of witches and wizards, who turned to him excitedly, expecting him to divulge all the secrets of Voldemort's death. Instead, he uttered something so quietly and calmly that Lily and James did not hear it. It must've been profound, for the majority of people bowed respectfully to him before disapparating away.

"A cat among the pigeons, that man..." James mused. "Did he mean we should stay longer at Bathilda's? Because I'm struggling to ignore the fact that her bathroom smells of cabbage."

"She keeps cabbages in the under-sink cupboard. She thinks they help with gout," Lily explained vaguely, turning around. She looked up at her house, or at least, what remained of it. It was strange to see her house turned inside out like this; it showed that a home was no more than a shell until happy memories permeated its walls.

"Look at them..." she heard James mutter. "Wanting a snap of our home like it's some bloody tourist attraction..."

"I don't blame them," said Lily softly. "If I were in their shoes, I'd want proof."

"What - and Voldemort's corpse in a glass coffin wasn't proof enough?!" James spluttered. He stared at his wife, but when he saw the melancholic expression in her face as she stared up at their ruined house, he could do nothing but sigh. "Yeah, I suppose you're right."

Lily smiled. Clearly James had caught on to her wavelength; that it was hard to believe that during the peak of Voldemort's power, he simply wandered into an old cottage and was destroyed by two love birds still fresh out of Hogwarts.

"This is not our home," said Lily seriously. "Not anymore. Not when we'd tip-toe around Voldemort's memory for the rest of our lives if we stayed."

Lily glanced at her husband to gage his reaction and was disappointed to see him frown. She stepped in front of him and planted her hands on his face, forcing him to look at her. "You made our home with Harry, not with this house."

She saw him contemplate her words in his mind as though he'd never thought of them before.

"We can't let _his _death he the end of us. We fought him for peace and that's what we'll get."

James smiled softly. "What could be more peaceful that Godric's Hollow?"

Lily raised an eyebrow and peered over James' shoulder. He followed her gaze to the remaining wandering witches and wizards, all nattering and bickering about where the house was.

James sighed. "Fair point."

oOo oOo oOo

On their second morning waking up in Bathilda Bagshot's house, Lily acknowledged that perhaps it wasn't just a gout precaution that had Bathilda buying crates full of cabbages every week. Lily awoke to the sound of Harry's hungry cries on the morning of the 3rd day of November while her husband was still deeply asleep. She let him lay there. James had had trouble getting to sleep in Bathilda's guest bedroom, which was damp and muggy with the ever-present smell of overcooked vegetables in the air. So, she tip-toed around the bed to Harry's makeshift cot and picked him up.

"Don't wake Daddy," she whispered to him, slowly twisting the door handle of their bedroom and slowly padding out into the dark landing. Harry's crying diminished slightly, but he was still grumbling and gurgling.

"_Shh,_" Lily whispered to her son, bouncing him on her hip. "We don't want to wake Daddy now, do we? And we definitely don't want to wake -"

"Morning, dear!" beamed Bathilda from the doorway of her bedroom.

"Good morning, Bathilda," Lily smiled pleasantly.

Bathilda held a candle in a holster in one trembling hand, for the autumn morning light was very dim, and reached behind the door for her old pink dressing gown with the other.

"It's a bit chilly this morning, dear, isn't it?"

"Er, yes!" smiled Lily. "I could do a warming charm on that dressing gown of yours if you want me to..."

"Oh, pish, Lily. I'm fine, really, I'm just old. I'll survive. Anyway, like I always say, there's nothing like a good muggle-made fire to thaw the bones. Isn't that so, dear?"

"Absolutely, absolutely..." Lily nodded vigorously, trying to disguise her feelings of mild dread. Bathilda's fireplace was appallingly dirty, as though it had never been cleaned. Whenever Bathilda had lit fires in the past, they always filled the living room with the smell of hot rotting vinegar.

"Why don't you let me light the fire, Bathilda?" asked Lily quickly as Bathilda began to descend the stairs. "Then you can put your feet up and -"

"No, no, no, dear, please!" Bathilda shuffled over to Lily, her arms held out. "I can watch Harry while you have a bath..." without waiting for Lily's response, she winched Harry out of her arms and began to descend the stairs. Harry began to cry again, writhing and struggling in Bathilda's arms.

"Er - thanks, Bathilda!" Lily called after her weakly. When Harry's cries became quieter and quieter as Bathilda took him in to the kitchen, Lily stared at the bathroom door ominously. Lily had put off having a bath in Bathilda's house since they'd arrived after Voldemort's cremation. Lily was better at ignoring off-putting smells than James was (whom she could hear retching every time he entered the bathroom) but even she could not ignore the overpowering smell of cabbage. It was so _odd. _

Suddenly, Lily had a thought; a thought that made her mouth water.

She dashed back into the guest bedroom where James was groggily rubbing his eyes. "James,_" _she whispered. _"James!"_

"Mmm?" he grunted.

"Bathilda's giving Harry his breakfast. She said I could have a bath."

"That's nice."

"So..." she waited for him to catch on. He didn't. When he managed to keep his eyes open, he stared at her vaguely. She sighed. "We've got about twenty minutes to ourselves."

"That's... _ohh_!" his eyes widened in understanding. Then, they darkened. "So, er..." he reclined back onto the pillows, pulling the blankets open for Lily to slide in with him. "What d'you want to do?"

"Actually, I genuinely do need a bath," she said, fighting a smirk when James frowned. She took his hand and hauled him off the bed, slowly guiding her drowsy and confused husband across the landing and into the bathroom.

As soon as they were inside, Lily started to draw the bath. James caught on quickly enough and pulled his t-shirt over his head. When Lily stood up, James grabbed her waist and pushed her against the door, kissing her passionately.

However, any possibilities of being distracted from the stench of rotting cabbage that she'd previously had went out of the window. Water spluttered from the taps into the bogey-green bath tub. Lily could almost taste the bizarre smell of vegetables.

James wrenched his lips from hers. "Merlin's sake..." he dropped to the floor and yanked the cupboard door open. A plethora of cabbages, turnips and onions tumbled out, rolling all over the bathroom floor. Lily stared in bewilderment. Why on earth..?

No sooner had the cabbages spilled out, James was unlocking the grimy window and prizing it open.

"James, what are you -?"

James grabbed two of the cabbages on the floor and hurled them out of the window.

"_James_!" Lily lunged and grabbed his arm before he could stoop down to pick up two more. "You can't just start throwing out her stuff!"

"Lily, they're _cabbages_!" he exclaimed in frustration. "We can't start- you know... when the room stinks of cabbages! She can't possibly need them anyway..."

"Just - just ignore them!" replied Lily with very little conviction. She grabbed his face and planted a searing kiss on his lips.

It was mere seconds before James was pulling away with a groan. "I can't! They're just too... off-putting..."

"_Ugh_!" Lily spun round and turned off the bath taps. She kicked the vegetables back into the cupboard, grabbed James' hand and lead him back into the guest bedroom. She shut the door, but the smell seemed to have permeated the rest of the upstairs.

When she turned round, James looked just like he had done five years ago, when his Quidditch final had been cancelled.

"We're not staying here," said Lily firmly. "We'll go mad if we do."

James raised his eyebrows in agreement. "Should we ask Sirius if we can stay at his flat?" he proposed.

"James, this place smells of roses compared to Sirius' flat!"

James couldn't argue with that.

There was a long silence.

"Are we being silly?" asked Lily, placing her hands on her hips. "Reacting like this to a bad-smelling house?"

James laughed, leaning against the bed post. "Nah. We're just tetchy. We haven't been alone since Voldemort was alive."

Lily gave him a pointed look. "We haven't been alone since Harry was born, James."

James smiled. "No, I suppose we haven't."

Lily sighed, wanting more than ever to be somewhere, _anywhere_, with just James and Harry. No more Order meetings, no more street-watching from behind a curtain, no more Auror shadowing. They'd been free from it all for three days and still they weren't comfortable.

"I'm getting dressed," said Lily, walking over to the wardrobe. "We need to be at the Ministry by nine."

She pulled the wardrobe open and squealed. Two more cabbages tumbled out onto the floor. She looked over to James, wide-eyed, mouth open.

James was grinning, fighting loud laughter. "She's... thorough..."

"_She's insane!_" hissed Lily, hastily grabbing a dress and cardigan from hangers and slamming the wardrobe shut.

"Should - should we ask her about it?" asked James, picking up the cabbages. "Or tell Dumbledore that she's probably one slice short of a loaf?"

Lily glanced at the cabbages in James' hand, looking concerned.

"Seriously, what could she _possibly _want with a hundred cabbages?"

Lily shrugged. "I'll ask her... later."

oOo oOo oOo

Harry seemed relieved to see his parents come downstairs, when they rescued him from his breakfast which appeared to be a bowl of beef puree. He had reached for James instantly, who'd picked him up as Lily informed Bathilda of their urgent business at the ministry. Several minutes later, Sirius and Remus arrived in thick winter cloaks.

Lily and James donned hats, scarves, gloves and bulky coats before Bathilda could trap them into breakfast. Lily forced a hat onto Harry's head, contemplating binding his thrashing arms to his sides as he tried to wrestle her.

"Wonderful to see you, Sirius, dear!" Bathilda smiled warmly as Lily buttoned up Harry's coat. "I cannot thank you enough for your sound advice on gnome control..."

Both Lily and James froze. "Sorry?" asked James.

Bathilda chuckled. "I was going to mention it to you, but I didn't want you to think I was barmy! I was having trouble with gnomes coming in to my house a few months ago, when I bumped into Sirius in Diagon Alley and _he _told me to hide cabbages around the house! Sounded absurd, but it did the trick! I haven't seen a gnome in weeks!"

Lily and James glared at Sirius, who grinned. "Exceeds Expectations N.E.W.T in Herbology, my friends. Don't underestimate my knowledge of botany."

Growling under her breath, Lily scooped up her son and walked off into the living room while James grabbed Sirius around the collar and marched him in after her. Remus followed with an amused smirk on his face.

James pulled out his wand and aimed it at the fireplace. "_Aguamenti!"_ he fired, and the flamed hissed as they vanished. "Sorry, Bathilda. Try a Drying Charm."

Lily glared at him as she flung the floo powder into the fire. She stepped inside. "Ministry of Magic!" she shouted. Bathilda's living room disappeared into a blur as Lily's insides churned with the motion of being inside a washing machine. Aside from a loud whooshing noise, she could just about hear Harry giggling. Then, she landed.

Her feet found the ground again. She was standing in a black iron grate in what looked to be a window-less, door-less holding cell. She might've been alarmed had it not been for Millicent Bagnold's advisor, Isabelle Sommier, standing in the doorway in a navy pin-stripe power suit, clutching a clipboard, beaming at her.

"Welcome to the Minister of Magic's Floo Network, Mrs Potter!" she turned to Harry, who was still drowsy from breakfast, and beamed at him. "Hello, sweetie!" she whispered to the baby.

Lily could only smile at her. Then, as she heard the whooshing sound start up again behind her, she dived out of the way. Sirius stepped out of the grate, shaking ash out of his coat. He looked up and Isabelle. "Morning, Miss Sommier," he grinned.

Isabelle rolled her eyes, but smiled nonetheless. "Hello, Sirius."

Lily looked between them suspiciously. "I thought James was joking when he said..."

"Nope," said Sirius happily.

Isabelle blushed as James stepped out of the grate, followed by Remus.

"Try a Drying Charm'... really, James?" questioned Remus as he stepped out. "Bathilda wrote the seven most widely-read spell books in history and you tell her to '_try a Drying Charm'_?"

Sirius laughed.

"Sorry, what's wrong with that?" asked James.

Remus rolled his eyes and grinned at Lily, who refused to believe that a man who once achieved an Outstanding in Charms thought that a Drying Charm actually existed.

"Gentlemen, Madam, if you'd like to follow me..." Isabelle turned on her heels and faced the wall behind her. James shot Lily a confused glance before the glossy black bricks began to shudder and shunt to the side, parting to create an archway. Isabelle stepped through the gap into a long narrow corridor that neither of them recognised. Endeared by Sirius' bounding after her, the three others followed.

"Er - Miss Sommier?" called James. "Where are we?"

"A secret passageway," Isabelle replied, her voice echoing loudly in the never-ending corridor.

"_No..._" James drawled quietly to Lily, but his voice carried too, louder than he'd intended. His cheeks went red.

"This is a Permission Only access route to the Minister's private rooms. _There's_ the Red Room, where emergency meetings take place, _there's _the panic room, _there's _the cabinet room where the Minister keeps all his or her files and documents and stuff and through _there _is the emergency staircase, which have two-way access to her own home, the muggle Prime Minister's office and a location unbeknownst to anyone except the Minister of Magic." Isabelle pointed to various points in the wall where Lily assumed were hidden rooms, for there were no doors down this corridor.

They came to a stop at a nondescript point down the corridor, where Isabelle turned to face the left-side wall. She handed her clipboard to Sirius and pressed her hand against the brick. Slowly, her hand sunk into the wall as though the bricks were made of tar. Her arm disappeared up to her elbow. She grabbed something within the wall. They heard a "clunk" sound, as though she'd unlocked a deadbolt. Then, she turned and smiled at them. "Follow me, please," and her whole body disappeared into the wall.

Sirius threw himself after her immediately, followed by an uneasy-looking Remus. James grabbed Lily's freehand and shot her a nervous glance. He stepped through, pulling Lily and Harry in after him.

It was not like walking through the barrier to platform nine and three quarters. This was a horrible sensation, like walking through thick treacle. Lily clutched Harry nervously and had to exert great force to push herself and her son through the wall until she stumbled into the room on the other side. Harry seemed totally nonplussed as his head lolled onto his mother's shoulder.

"Sorry about the theatrics," apologized Millicent Bagnold, rising from her huge throne-like desk chair. "But we couldn't have you walking through the main part of the Ministry, given your current status in the Wizarding World. Oh, bless the little lamb, he's falled asleep!" Bagnold grinned at Harry. True enough, Harry was dozing on Lily's shoulder.

Lily whirled round to stare at the spot in the wall that she'd just walked through. It looked like an ordinary solid wall, except that Isabelle was now pushing a huge portrait (which hung on side-hinged) against the wall. When it was in place, there was another "clunk" sound, and the portrait of Hogwarts Castle was fixed to the wall.

Bagnold stood as proud as she had when she'd first become Minister: slender in white heels with a spiky short-crop of blue-grey hair. She smiled at the quartet and gestured to the front of her desk. "Will you have a seat?" she asked. Instantly, four gold clouds of smoke swirled up from the plush carpet. They materialised into four gold chairs.

"Right, then... _right_," began Bagnold, sitting back down as the four friends sat on the gold chairs opposite. "To business..." she shuffled a stack of papers on her desk. She looked up at the marauders. It was as though seeing their faces this close cemented a particular idea in her mind. It was as though she'd seen the light.

"It's been a funny old week, hasn't it?" commented Bagnold. Lily said nothing, nor did the boys. Bagnold smirked. Then, she sat back in her chair. "I've been in this job for three hundred and sixty five days today. A whole year ago, an army of Ministry officials swarmed my house and quintessentially dragged me into this office," Bagnold did not seem bitter. She was merely reflective. "Poor Rodney had run a mile when Dumbledore confirmed to us that Voldemort was back. He thought that by being a muggle-born Minister, Voldemort would target him first. He was right, of course, but... there was really no need to emigrate to Greenland..." Bagnold's mind wandered for a second. "Such a strange little man... _anyway_, the upshot of it all is that I've been in this position for a year and I have yet to make any significant change to our world."

"Rubbish!" exclaimed Sirius instantly. Bagnold looked mildly shocked. "You funded the Auror department, you let the Order get on with their thing, Merlin's beard, we couldn't have defeated Voldemort without your leniency!"

Bagnold smiled. "I'm flattered, Mister Black. I didn't mean to sound so self-deprecating. However, I was referring to... well, our world as it was. Before Voldemort, I mean. You might've been to young to truly appreciate it, but our world and structure of the Ministry had started to fall into disarray... nothing alarming, just... not ideal."

The four of them hadn't even left Hogwarts when the fight against Voldemort had begun. Surely, they couldn't have been _that _oblivious?

"We seem to have let certain ideologies and prejudices fall through the cracks, so to speak. If the war has taught me anything, it's that we should never underestimate the underdog."

In her peripheral vision, Lily saw Sirius smirk.

"I'm a liberal, my friends, and for once I am going to make my views understood. Mister Lupin..." Bagnold looked straight at Remus. He went pale. "How old are you?"

Remus swallowed. "Er - twenty, Minister."

Bagnold seemed oddly pleased. "Lovely. I'm giving you a job."

Remus' eyes bulged. Lily, too, was dumbfounded. "You... you are?" asked Remus.

"Well, _I'm_ not, but Brutus Croptford is. He's looking to recruit support staff for his campaign to legislate his Bill of Law."

The four friends stared at her, confounded.

Bagnold rolled her eyes. "I've just promoted Brutus to the Head of The Department of International Magical Cooperation. He, like me, feels that certain issues need to be addressed by the Ministry."

Bagnold started to leaf through the multitude of documents that were spread all over her desk. "He's looking to start a think tank concerning the levels of equality and-or prejudice within the admittance stages of magical schools. If the think tank is a success, then... well, we could be looking at an international decree of equality."

"That's brilliant!" exclaimed Lily, momentarily rousing the sleeping Harry. Bagnold smiled. Remus, however, still looked ill.

"Minister, I- I can't accept your offer," he seemed surprised to hear the words come out of his mouth.

"Sorry?" asked Bagnold.

"I can't take the job, I'm not... qualified."

James, Sirius and Lily all seemed to deflate. They knew what Remus was on about. However, so did Bagnold.

Bagnold's eyelids drooped as she gave him a deadpan look. "I know you're a werewolf, Mister Lupin. Dumbledore told me."

Remus looked mortified and ashamed.

"But I'm afraid I refuse to hear your resignation until after you've started the job."

"Minister, I-"

"I know, I know, you're a vicious monster who mustn't be allowed near any other living beings. I've heard it all before, dear. My daughter was just the same."

Lily's jaw dropped.

"Your daughter's a werewolf?" breathed Remus.

"Yes," replied Bagnold, looking indifferent. "Happened on an eventful holiday to the Teutoburg Forest in Germany. She was worse than you after that. She said she couldn't face her Hogwarts friends and demanded to be sent elsewhere. We transferred her to The Heftigritter School. It's in Germany," Bagnold smiled slyly. "She wanted to find the werewolf that '_ruined her life'_. Such a drama queen..."

"What happened?!" gasped Remus, fascinated.

"Oh, she found him! Wonderful old man, visited us twice a year before he died."

Lily and the others stared, amazed.

"Erik Muller, his name was. Had a whole family, introduced my Rita to all his grandchildren... he helped her." Bagnold leant forward, looking Remus squarely in the eye. "Rita realised that she was mad to want to miss her brothers' weddings and the births of her nieces and nephews."

Remus' stunned expression faded into one of contemplation, and guilt.

"My daughter grew a pair, Mister Lupin. It's about time you did the same."

Sirius and James both gawped at Bagnold, before turning to laugh at Remus. However, Remus looked genuinely moved. He swallowed.

"This is a letter of recommendation from me to Brutus. Give it to him. I've told him to expect you in his office in ten minutes."

"Thank you," Remus said seriously. Bagnold nodded.

"As for you, Mister Black..."

Sirius sat up excitedly.

Bagnold glared at him. "Settle down there, sunshine, I know what you're like and I wouldn't give you a job if _you _were the one paying _me._"

Sirius sank back down, disappointed.

"However," Bagnold grabbed a sheet of paper and tore off the corner. She grabbed her quill and scribbled something onto it. "This is the name of a contact whom I think it would be prudent of you to meet. Isabelle will take you to him once she's shown Mister Lupin to his interview."

Sirius' eyebrows furrowed. "Who?"

Bagnold handed him the bit of paper. Sirius read it and looked up. "Who is he?"

"Just tell him your name and the rest will follow."

Sirius' expression darkened. "I don't think that's a good idea, Minister..."

"Don't worry," she said, smiling. "He'll understand."

Isabelle opened the real office door to the rest of the ministry and gestured for Remus and Sirius to follow. Both men got up and shuffled out, each looking nervous and lost.

"Now, _you _three," she grinned briefly at the sleeping Harry on Lily's lap. "The news I have for you isn't as positive as Mister Black's and Mister Lupin's."

Lily gulped, suddenly anxious.

"There are still Death Eaters to be caught, as I'm sure you're aware. It shouldn't be too difficult to round them up. They seem to have lost their bloodlust since the possibility of being rewarded had been burnt to a crisp and locked in a Gringotts vault. However, um... Alastor asked me to relay to you that _he_ thinks you should wait until the more loyal of Voldemort's followers are in Azkaban before finding a new home."

Lily's heart sank.

"No way!" exclaimed James. "We've just spent fifteen months living in hiding, I want my sodding freedom!"

"James..." Lily warned wearily.

"I hear you, Mister Potter, but there is a risk that some of them might be planning to avenge Voldemort's death. We _cannot_ put your lives at risk. Think of your son, Mister Potter."

James glanced down at Harry. Thankfully, his expression seemed to soften slightly. That did not mean that he was happy.

"Who's left, then?" asked James, still watching his son sleep.

"Avery and The Lestranges, although we've got Rabastan. Speaking of which, erm... the Wizengamot inform me that the Death Eater trials are due to start tomorrow at nine. Will you want to be present?"

Lily and James exchanged a look which confirmed to each of them what the other was thinking.

"No, thank you," said Lily. "It's probably best if we keep away."

"A wise decision," Bagnold agreed. "There's just one other thing," Bagnold leant forward on the desk again. "People are confused as to what happened that night in your house. My press liaison officer has promised the news editors that I would ask about a press conference..."

"No!" said Lily quickly. She looked at James with desperation. "We can't!"

Bagnold shifted uncomfortably. "I understand that Voldemort's death is a rather sensitive topic, but-"

"That's not it..." said James, with difficulty. He glanced apologetically at Lily before continuing. "We can't... we can't answer any questions about that night because _we _don't know what happened that night."

Bagnold looked between the two of them. "I don't understand."

Lily swallowed and took a deep breath. "We didn't kill him, Minister. We were... we were arguing that night," Lily remembered the blazing row she'd had with James that evening. It had been about money. It seemed so trivial now. "We didn't hear him come in and he didn't stop to kill us. He just... went upstairs for Harry."

Bagnold looked utterly lost. "But then, how did he die?"

"We don't know," said James gravely. "We weren't thinking straight, we just saw him reach the landing and we legged it upstairs. We didn't have our wands, we didn't have anything, we just..." he looked at his wife. Lily could see the regret in his eyes at not having thrown her out of the way of Voldemort's path. James' eyes turned glassy. "We just dived in front of Harry."

For a long minute, Bagnold looked insulted. Lily's heart raced, wondering what Bagnold would do. Would she shout at them? Tell the press? Send a note to Brutus Croptford and Sirius' contact and tell them not to bother?

Bagnold sighed. "You're wrong. You did kill him."

"...how?" asked James.

Bagnold suddenly chuckled tiredly. "You two... Albus always told me Lily was modest but you, James... I'd heard you were a big fan of praise."

Lily and James didn't know whether to be relieved or offended.

"You started the fight against the Death Eaters when you were schoolchildren. _Schoolchildren._ You founded the Order of the Phoenix. You captured Death Eaters. You sacrificed more than most brave wizards would have done."

"Minister-"

"As for the 31st October, you did kill Voldemort. It's complicated, but you should ask Dumbledore. I'm sure he'd explain it better than I ever could." Suddenly, Bagnold looked very tired. She sighed sleepily, reclining back in her chair. "Maybe a press conference would be stretching it a bit far, but people of the wizarding world aren't looking for minute-by-minute accounts. They just want the facts. They want to understand and appreciate what they're celebrating. I'll arrange for you to make a statement with Albus within the week," she smiled wryly. "It won't kill you."

The office door opened. In stepped Isabelle and Sirius, who looked euphoric.

"Sirius?" asked James. "What's up with you?"

"Ted Tonks," he breathed. "He was the contact. He's my cousin's husband. They've invited us to dinner."

Lily, who knew and understood Sirius' longing for a real family, gave him a watery smile. James grinned proudly.

"Isabelle, would you kindly escort the Potters and Mister Black back to the Floo network?"

"Yes, Minister," Isabelle smiled, walking over to unlock the portrait.

"Oh, Mister and Missus Potter... in light of giving people their just-desserts, I will be in touch with you about yours."

James and Lily stared at her. "Excuse me?" asked James.

Bagnold smiled. "You won't get away with saving the world."

oOo oOo oOo

_A/N: Please review that staggeringly long chapter. _

_Please review. _

_Also, please review. _

_The story will start to speed up soon, so hang in there. _

_P.S. Please review. And follow me on tumblr (profile link)_


	4. Blandings, Izzy, Cadwal and Him

"It better not start bloody raining again," grumbled James. "There's so many leaks in this ceiling that Bathilda might as well blast the roof off."

Remus chuckled at his friend, who had not stopped complaining about Bathilda's house all morning. Luckily for him, Bathilda was a late riser. They usually had the house to themselves until lunch.

"Roof explosions seem to be all the rage in this village," Remus smirked, glancing out of the kitchen window at the remnants of the famous house down the lane.

"Might as well move back in to the old house! It's probably warmer and dryer than this dump!"

"James?" Lily called quietly, sounding unnaturally sweet as she tip-toed into the kitchen. She wore a fixed smile. "Can I ask you a question?"

James glanced nervously at Remus, then looked back at Lily. "Er - sure."

"Which of your limbs is your least favourite?" she took a step towards him, still smiling sweetly, with her hands clasped behind her back.

James looked even more nervous. "Er- I dunno... why?"

"_Because_," Lily's smile instantly vanished, being replaced with a deathly snarl. "I have just spent the past two hours trying to get our teething son to sleep and if your incessant whining wakes him up, I will remove one of your limbs with my bare hands and beat you to death with it. Understood?"

James stood to attention, saluted, and smirked. Lily was visibly exhausted. James knew she wasn't sleeping well here, what with the thin plaster walls letting in sounds of shrieking nocturnal animals, hysterical tourists outside their old house down the lane and battering gusts of wind. Once more, more of Harry's teeth were growing through. This meant that he was grumpy whenever he was awake.

"Listen, Lily," James began in a whisper. "I need to start looking for a job."

"I know," replied Lily.

"Remus suggested that I go in with him today and see what's available there."

Lily bit her lip. "Are you sure that's wise? I don't want another repeat of-"

"No, no, it'll be fine!" James dismissed her. He knew she was picturing the disastrous venture into Diagon Alley three days ago, when they'd been mobbed by shoppers. Some were hailing praise, some were hurling stones. It had been chaos.

"James, can't you just... just look in the _Daily Prophet _or something?"

James groaned. "That's what I've been doing all week, Lily! No, I need to be proactive. I need something that actually _pays_."

"Well..." Lily started to protest, but paused as though unable to think of an argument. "Alright then, when are you going to be back?" she asked.

"Aren't you coming with us?" asked Remus.

Lily frowned. "I can't leave Harry with Bathilda again. The stress nearly killed her last time."

"We can bring him with us, can't we?" suggested James. Before Remus could point out the weak points for taking a baby into the Ministry of Magic while still trying to appear inconspicuous, Lily glared at James again.

"No, we can't take him! James, all he does is scream!"

"Alright, alright!" James held his hands up in defence. "Don't take it out on me, I'm not the sodding tooth fairy!"

"I'm not taking it out on you!"

"_Yes you are_!"

"I'm just agitating and you're pissing me off!"

Remus shrunk into the corner of the kitchen. When Lily swore, she really was pissed off.

"We can see that, Lily! Just don't shout at me!"

"I'M NOT SHOUTING AT YOU!"

"_YES YOU ARE_!"

Then, conjuring all the panic and dread of an air-raid siren, Harry's wails reverberated throughout the rickety house. Remus, James and Lily sank.

"You are _dead,_" Lily hissed at her husband as she stormed out of the kitchen.

Wide-eyed as though thoroughly bewildered and insulted, James held his arms out in exasperation at Remus. "What did I do? _What did I actually do?_"

Remus smiled. "Lily's been cooped up in a strange house with a screaming baby and a batty old woman for company."

"Batty old woman?" chuckled a female voice from the door. James squeaked. "You weren't talking about me by any chance, were you?"

"No, Ms Bagshot, we were simply talking about my mother," Remus smiled calmly.

Bathilda shuffled across the kitchen to the cupboards. She opened one and bent down to rifle through it, her large backside sticking up in the air. James and Remus exchanged a silent snigger just as Lily walked in, scowling, clutching Harry's hand as he walked beside her on wobbly feet.

"Good morning, Harry!" Remus beamed. Harry did not smile back. He looked tired and unhappy, his cheeks red from exertion and big tears rolling down his cheeks.

"Who's this, Harry?" asked James, bending down to where Harry now stood by the leg of dining table. "Harry, who's this?"

"Dada," Harry answered begrudgingly, pouting at Remus.

James laughed. "No, Harry... go on, who is it? Look closely."

Harry squinted. Remus bent down and shuffled closer to Harry. On further inspection, Harry recognized his visitor. "Meemus!" Harry pointed at Remus.

James clapped twice. "That's right, Harry, Remus!"

James looked up expecting to see Lily, hoping that she was smiling at Harry. Instead, she'd made her way over to Bathilda.

"Bathilda, let me to that," she was saying. James stood up and hauled Harry onto one of the dining chairs, the seat of which he'd charmed to be higher than the others.

"No, that's quite alright, dear!" Bathilda's voice sounded from within the cupboard. Her head was right in there as she rummaged for decent food.

"Really, Bathilda, I can manage!"

"Don't worry about me, dear, just sit down!"

Lily gave James an imploring look.

James cleared his throat. "Bathilda, you've just woken up. Why don't you let Lily get breakfast ready for a change?"

Bathilda chuckled, reappearing from inside the cupboard holding a bottle of milk and a box of very old-looking oats. "Nonsense!" she smiled. "You're my guests! What sort of a host would I be if I made you serve up the meals?"

James looked at Lily and shrugged, apparently not seeing a way around Bathilda's argument. Lily begrudgingly sat down next to Harry, clenching her teeth. She'd have looked angry had she not looked so tired. Remus knew full well that living with Bathilda was getting to Lily. However, he did not see how the scatterbrained musings and quirks of an old woman could be that annoying. Lily and James were now homeless. Surely they could survive her, if it meant having a roof over their head (however leaky it was)?

Remus, James and Lily sat in silence whilst the sound of clattering pots and pans came from where Bathilda faced the kitchen windows.

"There's nothing more satisfying than warm porridge on a rainy day..." Bathilda mused. James sat up and craned to look out of the window. Sure enough, rain was starting to fall. He grimaced and sank back into this seat.

"_Incendio,_" Bathilda cast into the small stone oven in the wall. "If there's one spell we cannot live without, it's the fire-lighting charm. Did you know it was the first spoken spell ever invented?" Remus noticed a strange black iron skewer hung just above the coals, which were now glowing after Bathilda's spell. "Yes, yes... 10th century. A rich lord in Aberdeenshire had been complaining of a draft in his bed chamber and his chamber-man was terrified of being decapitated, so he just shouted for fire and voila! There it...oh, poor thing!"

Harry had started to cry again. Bathilda quickly hung the pan of milk and oats onto the oven skewer and, to Remus' surprise, ran to Harry's aid. James and Lily, who'd immediately started cooing at Harry, trying to soothe him, were cast aside as Bathilda picked Harry up from his chair and carried him over to the window.

Remus looked at his friends, who did not look confused or shocked. Instead, Lily looked hurt. James looked cross.

"Bathilda?" called James. Bathilda did not appear to hear her. She bounced Harry on her hip, who continued to cry whilst Bathilda pointed out at the village through the window, talking softly to him.

James and Lily shared a dark look. "Bathilda?" Lily tried after taking a deep calming breath. "Bathilda, what are you doing?"

Bathilda looked over her shoulder and smiled at Lily. "He just needs a change of scenery, that's all!"

James blinked hard. "Actually, I think he's probably hungry."

Bathilda chuckled. "Well, I can't make food cook any quicker!"

James was making an effort to breathe slowly and calmly. Lily, who'd apparently re-connected with him in their mutual irritation, reached over and held her hand, rubbing it with her thumb to calm him further.

"_Wipe your tears little boy, lest the water fairies see, before they whisk you away in the Autumn breeze..._" Bathilda began to sing wobbly. James' eye twitched.

"Ah, it smells as though the porridge is ready!" Bathilda cheered, sitting Harry down on the edge of the counter. When she walked away from him, all three remaining adults lurched to their feet. Remus dived for Harry before he could fall, throwing an appalled look at Bathilda as she dished up the porridge into chipped bowls.

"Here we are!" Bathilda sang, dumping the bowls on the table. "There's nothing more sustaining than a hot bowl of porridge!"

Casting Bathilda's repetitiveness aside as old age, Remus happily took the bowl of porridge that she presented to him. However, he found that he was holding a bowl of warm milk on which floated a handful of soggy oats. Remus could see James' eyes flicking from Bathilda to Harry's bowl. He could tell that James was deliberating whether or not to magically fix Harry's breakfast without Bathilda noticing. He also saw the daring glint in his eyes disappear as Bathilda sat down at the table.

Lily reluctantly picked up Harry's spoon and started feeding him spoonfuls of milk, to which Harry responded with a cough and a wail each time.

"_Toddlers_," tutted Bathilda. "So demanding, aren't they?"

"Harry's teething too, Bathilda," said James defiantly. "That's why he's been crying a lot these days."

They continued eating, until Bathilda suddenly gasped "Perhaps he's cold!", as if James hadn't spoken before. Remus thought it was a strange idea to come up with. The stone oven was heating the room enough as it was. As for Bathilda, she was wrapped in about twenty shawls.

"He's not cold," said James coolly.

"It's rather chilly in here. I'll go and light a fire!"

Remus understood the almost frightened look that Lily and James exchanged as Bathilda carried Harry out of the kitchen and into the living room.

"Bathilda?" called James. When there was no reply, he stood up. "Bathilda, I really think-"

"_Incendio_!" they heard Bathilda shout in the living room. Within seconds, the house was full of the sour acidic smell of burning mould. James gagged. Bathilda shuffled back in to the room. "There. Age-old classic. Did you know that the fire-lighting charm was the first spoken spell ever invented?"

Lily cleared her throat. "Yes, we did."

To her credit, Lily managed to spoon-feed most of the milk and some of the soggy oats to Harry in between his cries. However, this meant that she'd hardly touched her own breakfast. Maybe that was tactical.

"Remus?" James pushed his bowl away from him after a few slowly-chewed mouthfuls. "Shouldn't we be going soon? You don't want to be late for work, do you?"

"Actually, I don't have to be there until-" Remus almost said 'ten', but noticed James' pleading expression. "Oh... erm, what's the time?"

"Half past eight, dear," Bathilda smiled at him sweetly.

"Ooh, yes, erm... yes, we should get going."

As Remus and James stood up, so did Lily. Harry immediately started to wail. James stared at her. "Coming?"

"Yes," she said quickly. "Let me just go and get Harry's pram."

Pram? Remus watched her quickly disappear, wondering what on Earth a pram was. He assumed it was a funny parents' term for a baby's coat.

"You can leave Harry here with me, if you want, Lily!" called Bathilda, quickly padding towards the door. "I don't mind!"

"That's quite alright!" replied Lily from another room. "I'm running errands with Sirius!" she lied. "He's always eager to see his Godson!"

Seconds later, Lily wheeled in a bizarre contraption. It was an oddly-shaped seat with wheels on it, like a trolley. It took Remus a moment to remember what it was.

"A perambulator!" he exclaimed. "I remember those from Muggle Studies!"

He fondly recalled the lessons he spent studying eagerly with Sirius, and the weeks they spent on the topic of _Domestic Short-Cuts_. That had been Remus' favourite topic. Sirius favoured the _Sport and Leisure_ weeks.

"Sort of," replied Lily breathlessly as she hoisted the wailing Harry out of his seat and laid him gently into the pram. "It's a push-chair. I just call it a pram. Harry's far too big for a real pram anymore."

"Bless him... they grow up so fast, don't they?" Bathilda smiled sadly. It was then that Lily stopped in her anguish to look pitifully at Bathilda. Remus knew that it was not nostalgia that had Bathilda's mind trailing, but loneliness. "Can you believe he's sixteen months old tomorrow?"

The adults froze.

"...today is the thirtieth of November?" Lily asked quietly.

"Indeed it is, dear!" said Bathilda happily. "Is something the matter?"

"Tomorrow it'll be a month since..." Lily trailed off.

Remus felt his eyes sting and his heart drop. Had a month really passed since James and Lily had killed Voldemort? Had they really let the date creep up on them without so much as a single thought as to how they would honour their friends that day? He felt sick with himself.

"We should go," said James softly, taking his wife's arm before she could cry.

"When will you be back?" asked Bathilda quickly, sounding suddenly nervous.

"Soon," said Lily, managing a smile. "I've just got to a bit of shopping."

Bathilda nodded, seeming reassured. "I'll wait here, then."

oOo oOo oOo

"If this ends up being permanent," James hissed from under his invisibility cloak. " I will destroy you."

"Relax," Remus urged him, chuckling. "There are worse spells to experiment with, you know..."

James and Remus were stood in the cubicle entrance to the Ministry of Magic. The bathroom was uncharacteristically empty, what with the majority of commuters having arrived at the Ministry much earlier. With Remus' new working hours being later than everyone else's, he and James had been able to find a more decent breakfast in a muggle cafe.

"Okay, lose the cloak," said Remus. James whipped the invisibility cloak over his head, revealing himself to be damp from the rain. He stared at Remus' wand nervously.

"I told you to relax," said Remus. "The worst that can happen is that you're stuck with ginger hair forever."

"Kill me..." James grumbled, grimacing as Remus pointed his wand at James' head.

"Hold still," Remus warned, grinning. "_Colovaria_!"

James felt his scalp tingle for a second, then it stopped. When he saw Remus fight a smirk, his hands dropped his cloak and went straight to his hair. It felt normal. "What's happened? Am I ginger?"

"Very much so."

James yanked the cubicle door open and searched for his reflection in the mirror. Sure enough, his hair was the most vibrant orange he'd ever seen.

"Off we go!" said Remus merrily, picking the invisibility cloak off the floor and stuffing it into his briefcase.

James had to stop himself growling. His mortification was off-set by the funny sight of Remus clambering into a toilet bowl.

"You do this every day?"

"Shut up."

He flushed the chain and looked to be sucked painfully down the pipe. James gulped as he stepped in afterwards. He was feeling rather full from his second breakfast. He didn't want to throw up in the Ministry. He took a deep breath and pulled the chain.

The sensation itself was dreadful. A split second of feeling yourself literally being squeezed through a six-inch-wide pipe was definitely not fun. However, it was over instantly. If James was getting a job here, he would travel by Floo Network.

"Remus?" he called out stupidly, as he stumbled out of the grate into a throng of business-like Ministry workers.

"Here," said Remus, coming out from round the side of the shoot. "Come on, it's this way."

They joined the flowing current of Ministry workers into the main space, where people began to divide off down corridors and into lifts. Remus dragged James into the lift without a queue. James was too nervous about being caught to bother taking in the scene around him. Remus was chatting to colleagues and pressing buttons on the lift as though he'd been in the job for years. James was vaguely conscious of people getting in and out of the lift whenever they shunted to a stop and lurched off again. Before long, it was their turn.

_"Minister for Magic and Support Staff,_" said a jolly voice from nowhere. Remus gave James a little shove and they ventured out into a large round room with doors staggered around the walls and a glass domed ceiling as high as Gringotts'. It was empty, except for one round man at a solitary desk with a bowler hat, whom James vaguely recognised. He was scratching away at a roll of parchment with his quill. On the desk, four other quills were aggressively scribbling letters and contracts on their own.

"Excuse me... Mister Blandings?" asked Remus, stepping forward towards the desk.

The small man looked up with big brown eyes. "Mister Lupin, are you lost?"

"No, no, but my friend here wants to see the Minister for Magic."

Blandings looked sharply at James for a second before his expression melted into a beaming smile. "Arthur! My dear chap, how _are _you? You're looking well!"

Remus and James exchanged a bewildered glance.

"Wait there just one moment, Old Bean, let me see..." Blandings picked up a roll of parchment. From within his pocket he pulled out a monocle. He held it to his eye and squinted unattractively at the parchment, his tongue sticking out of his mouth as he searched the document for something. "Hmm... nope, sorry, Arthur! You're not on the list!" Blandings removed his monocle and squinted at James. "Did you forget to make an appointment again?"

Beside James, Remus chuckled. "Mister Blandings, this is my friend, James Potter."

Blandings' mouth fell open with a pop. He scrambled around the desk for his monocle, grabbed it, and with a trembling hand held it to his good eye. His mouth widened impossibly further. "By Jove..." he whispered. "It is you! What happened to you hair?"

"A personal safety measure, Mister Blandings, nothing more," Remus smiled. "Does the Minister have a five minute slot somewhere where she can talk to Mister Potter, here?"

"I... but... I...of- _of course_!" Blandings spluttered. "Go right in!"

James smiled gratefully at Blandings. Remus patted him on the back. "I'm off to work. See you later." and with that, he disappeared back into the lift.

"This way, Sir!" Blandings hobbled over to the door directly behind his desk and opened it, half bowing as he did so. Through the door, James recognised the portrait that concealed the hidden doorway. He smiled and walked forward.

Millicent Bagnold was at her desk, her head in her hands. Her head shot up when he entered. "Who the hell are you?!"

"Er- James Potter, Minister."

Bagnold leapt out of her chair and raced across the room with the sprightliness of a young girl. She peered right in his face and gasped. "Mister Potter! How the bloody hell did you get in without an appointment? What have you done to your hair?"

"Minister, relax," James soothed, feeling somewhat braver. "The man out there let me in. As for the hair, I've always fancied bouncy orange curls."

Bagnold narrowed her eyes at him. "Have a seat, Potter."

Rather than join him, Bagnold marched over to the office door and pulled it open. "Blandings!" There was a pause. "_Blandings_! You _only _let in people who are _on - that- list_!" she hissed angrily at him. She slammed the door.

"Sorry, Potter," she sighed, walking back over. "Busy morning, busy week, busy month..." she flopped back into her desk chair and exhaled. "Speaking of which, I imagine that's why you're here."

"Minister?"

"Tomorrow. There's no thirty-first of November so the first of December will be the one month anniversary. Isn't that why you're here? To arrange something?"

"Er, not quite," James replied honestly, feeling flush. "I'm here about something far less humble."

"Something far less humble that couldn't have reached me by owl?"

"We don't have an owl, Minister."

"You should get one," she smiled. "Go on, what is it?"

James paused, then took a deep breath. "Last time we were here, you said something about getting our just-desserts. I wondered... _we _wondered what you meant by that."

Before Bagnold could reply, the office door swung open. "Sorry, sorry!" Blandings hobbled in carrying a large pile of rolls of parchment. He dumped them on Bagnold's desk.

"Blandings, what on Earth-"

Blandings sighed and pointed to each roll of parchment in turn. "That one's from Dumbledore, that one's from the Auror Office, that one's a petition to expand the Wizengamot, that one's a petition to shrink the Wizengamot and that one's from the United States' Minister of Magic asking if cancelling the Quidditch World Cup this year constitutes _two_ Quidditch World Cups _this _year, Minister."

"Good God, that man is a moron..." Bagnold hastily grabbed a quill and unrolled the one from the American Minister. Before she wrote anything, she glanced at a handful of remaining parchments on her desk.

"And who are those from?" she asked, nodding to them.

"Oh, those are death threats, Minister."

"Oh good. Thank you, Blandings, you can go."

Blandings bowed, tipping his bowler had and hobbled back out of the door. As soon as it was shut, Bagnold collapsed onto the desk and growled.

"Death threats, Minister?" asked James, recognising the familiar tense feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. "Who from?"

Bagnold lifted her head. She looked even more exhausted than before. "Everyone. Death Eaters' families, lunatics, conservatives, die-hard blood purists... I keep getting them from an old wizard in Morocco whom I doubt knows anything about anything."

"Why are you getting death threats?!"

Bagnold smiled tiredly and shrugged. "I'm the Minister for Magic. It's in my job description. Plus, I've spent the past month publically celebrating the incarceration of many people's relatives. It might be seen as insensitive to them, but-"

"Rubbish! The Death Eaters killed and tortured people! They belong in Azkaban!"

Bagnold smiled again. "It seems you're starting to feel the effects of being deprived of a fighting cause."

James gave her a puzzled look.

"Stop rallying, Potter. There's no need to get angry."

James smiled bashfully at her, embarrassed that he'd got riled up. Still, death threats to a perfectly fair and firm Minister was just wrong, and rather scary. Now he felt stupid for coming in the first place.

"What were we talking about?" asked Bagnold.

James laughed at himself. Bagnold would kick him out of her office now, surely. What had possessed him to come to the Minister for Magic for a job?

"Just-desserts."

Bagnold laughed. "Oh yes. I meant what I said - you'll get them."

"I believe you... but when will we get them?"

Bagnold's smile faded slightly. "Potter, is everything alright?"

That was a big question.

"Sort of," James answered. He was responded to with raised eyebrow from Bagnold. "OK, maybe things could be going a bit better than they are. Whatever 'just-desserts' are coming our way, we could really use them now."

Bagnold thought for a moment. "Money troubles?"

"Again, sort of. We're having a hard time with our living situation at the moment-" it was a harsh thing to say. James knew that if he had to explain the situation in detail to Bagnold, she'd think he was just being whiny. "-after living in hiding for a year, Lily and I were really banking on being able to get on with our lives, but we can't do that when we have no jobs, no money and no home."

"I see," said Bagnold seriously. "You're unhappy at Miss Bagshot's."

"Well..." James began, wondering how on earth he was going to word his answer without sounding awful. "It's not just that..." he said lamely. "

Bagnold sighed pitifully. "I understand your plight, Potter, truly I do," she held her hands up in defence. "-but I'm afraid I'm with the Aurors on this one.

James, feeling slightly more abandoned than before, made a noise something between a sigh and a growl as he slumped back into his chair.

"I'm sorry, Potter, but we cannot risk your safety. The Death Eaters remaining-"

"_Why _are their Death Eaters remaining?" asked James hotly. "What are the Aurors busy doing that makes capturing the Lestranges so difficult?"

He knew he'd spoken out of turn even before Bagnold's understanding expression morphed into one of mild shock. "Mister Potter, I don't think you're in a position to criticise the work of the Auror department!"

"Am I not?" James demanded, suddenly feeling affronted.

"Certainly not!" Bagnold now reminded James of Professor McGonagall during one of his detentions. "There are twenty one Death Eaters in Azkaban thanks to the Aurors and-"

"Yeah, brilliant!" James drawled. "Always arrived in the nick of time, didn't they? Always arrived at the scene just before anyone could be tortured, right?" James' last memory of Alice and Frank flashed up in his mind, clear as day: he, Lily, Sirius and Marlene stood in the crisp-clean Spell-damage ward of St Mungos, watching little Neville Longbottom bouncing up and down on Alice's new bed beside her, clearly wondering why she wasn't picking him up or cuddling him. Neville would never know what it was to be cuddled by a comforting parent.

"I'm sorry for what happened to your friends, Mister Potter, but-"

"The Aurors have saved a lot of lives this year, haven't they?" Another painful memory gripped him: The one day that Mad-Eye had allowed he and Lily to venture out of hiding so that Harry might visit his Godmother. The day had ended with Lily howling like a wounded animal at the sight of Marlene, sprawled on her living room floor, her blue eyes staring at nothing, her blonde-haired parents and brother lying just as still on the floor around her.

They would never, ever see Marlene again. She would never hit James round the pack of the head with a newspaper. Lily no longer had a foul-weather friend as fierce and loyal as Marlene.

"You have to see the situation from our perspective, Mister Potter! Voldemort had strategies that we couldn't-"

"And to top it all off-!" James continued over here, the real weight of loss crashing down on him like an anvil, "Two twenty-one year olds and a baby managed to kill him without even leaving the house!"

He'd stepped over the line. Bagnold's face went bright purple. Her eyes bulged. "MISTER POTTER..." she roared, her face becoming a vision of pure rage. "You are out of your mind if you think it was anything more than dumb luck that Voldemort decided to come to your house unassisted that night! What you did may have been brave, but if Voldemort hadn't acted on an inflated sense of immortality, we would all still be in hiding!"

James felt himself shrink into his seat, hot shame flushing through his veins.

Bagnold watched him carefully, still looking as furious as ever. "Whatever you say about the events of the past year, I know that the Aurors risked their lives every single day and after all that's happened, they're still doing it. You will not make a mockery of their sacrifices by throwing yourself into danger _again._" Bagnold's heavy breathing was the only sound in the room for a long minute. Slowly, her face gained its usual colour. She sat down promptly in her seat and cleared her throat. "For the time being, we all think it's best if you and your family do not linger anywhere longer than a few months.

James' head jerked up, but this time he was able to stop himself protesting.

"I daresay that's what you want, isn't it? An excuse to leave Miss Bagshot's?"

He merely took a deep breath and asked, "Why do we have to leave?"

"If Death Eaters are after revenge, they'll stop at nothing. The last reported sighting of a Death Eater was in Dover so they could be fleeing the country and giving up-"

"Well then we're safe!" exclaimed James happily.

Bagnold gave him a warning glance. "That does not mean that we can relax. Do as I say, Potter. As your Minister and as your friend..." her face softened ever so slightly to one of pity. She did not wear her heart on her sleeve usually, so James was moved to see it. "... I implore you, keep moving. Just for the time being, it won't be that long. Stay with relatives, rent rooms, do what you must. Keep your friends close, Potter."

James swallowed thickly, finding it difficult to ignore the stinging in his eyes. "I'm afraid we don't have many of those left anymore, Minister."

Bagnold clenched her jaw. She pulled open the desk drawer beside her and pulled out, astonishingly, a handkerchief with which she dabbed her eyes. James had not been conscious of the fact that he saw Millicent Bagnold as abhuman. He was a fool for ignoring the possibility that she was, in fact, just like him. His mind went strangely to Dumbledore and the God-like image that he, like everyone else, shone upon him.

"I'm busy, Potter. I've got politicians to reply to and death threats to fashion into miniature swans. You should go home."

James had no intention of going back to Bathilda's. Lily wasn't there, nor was Harry. He had no home.

oOo oOo oOo

Two miles away from Godric's Hollow, Lily found herself in a much more appealing sort of solitude than she was used to.

Stourhead was a vast Palladian mansion that tourists frequented for walks. Its grounds were so sprawling and labyrinthine that the muggles would never know that Lily had snuck in undetected and was sitting on the bank of the enormous pond, lazily throwing chunks of bread out at the hungry ducks.

"Mummy!" her baby called from several feet away, where he'd been playing. He was holding something.

"What's that, Harry?" asked Lily, attempting to sound cheerful. "Can you bring it here?"

Harry toddled over, clutching the small object in his hands. When he reached her, smiling proudly, he opened his hands to reveal a tiny acorn, shaken too early from its tree.

"Pea?" asked Harry holding it up to Lily.

"No, darling, that's an acorn. _Acorn._"

Harry looked down at his treasure blankly. A second later, he brought his hand up towards his mouth.

"No, Harry!" gasped Lily, grabbing his hand. When she saw his startled expression, she giggled. "You can't eat that. You can eat some bread though," she reached in to the brown paper bag where she'd bought a small cheap load. She tore off some tiny pieces, knowing that if she gave Harry a big chunk, he'd simply throw it into the pond. "Come on, let's feed the ducks!"

Such was Harry's obsession with all things dangerous at that time that Lily could not allow him to approach the edge of a shallow pond alone, no matter the strength of the spontaneous bouts of magic he'd demonstrated over the past few months. She bent down beside him and held tightly to his waist while he took pieces of bread from her outstretched hand and threw them at the small family of ducks that had joined them. It was nice to have a quiet, normal moment with her son after months of living under a microscope. There were no aurors here. She could pretend there was no ministry. She could pretend, for a mad minute, that Voldemort had never existed and that she and James would be tucking Harry in to his own cot in his own nursery in their own house.

But the pond, which was large enough to be called a small lake, reminded her mournfully of Hogwarts. Specifically, the morning after their last full moon at Hogwarts. Rather than spend their last Hogsmeade visit in The Three Broomsticks, Lily had sat with Marlene along the short strip of shore beside the lake. They'd been lazing around, messing about, wrestling, flicking water at each other, warming their bare feet in the June sun's rays. Despite the nostalgia and happiness that Lily felt as that memory played out, there had been a quiet undertone of falsity. Lily and Marlene knew that the other was taking great pains not to let the jovial conversation tumble into something solemn, which happened so often in those days. Nevertheless, they had momentarily slipped.

_"Hogsmeade's not that interesting, when you think about it," Lily had said, lounging closer to the water than Marlene. "After three visits, I found it rather boring."_

_"Keep telling yourself that, Lily," Marlene had smiled up at the sky, her eyes still closed. "But we can still go if you want. James did say he wouldn't be offended if we didn't wait for them."_

_"I meant it, though," Lily had insisted, then toying with the round pebbles that were whetted by the lapping water. "People just insist on going there to assert their freedom, when in actual fact, opting to refuse a privilege is a sign of proper liberty. We have free will and we've acted upon it by coming out here," Lily had smiled triumphantly. "You and I have never been more free."_

_At that, Marlene had opened her eyes and lent up on her elbows. "You believe that, do you?"_

_Lily had looked at Marlene, who'd worn an unnaturally somber expression. _

_It had been as Alastor Moody had told them when they'd met him at Christmas of that year. Constant Vigilance._

_"Freedom lies where you feel it," Lily had replied, her soft voice barely audible over the whisper of trees in the breeze. _

_Lily had known then that Marlene did not believe her. She saw her mull her words over doubtfully. But, ever the foul-weather friend, Marlene had closed her eyes and leant back again. "My freedom lies at Honeydukes. I'm bloody starving. If those boys don't come back with food, I'm going to drown them."_

_Lily's laugh had only half forced. "What sort of food do you expect them to find in the Forbidden Forest?"_

_Marlene had shrugged nonchalantly. "Maybe Moony accidentally brutally butchered Prongs. He might turn out to be a tasty bit of venison. I'll start a fire, pass me my wand."_

"Mummy!" gasped Harry. "Woof!"

"No, Darling," Lily's voice wavered. "Ducks go 'quack'."

"No!" said Harry. "Woof!" He pointed to something behind her.

"Lily?" called a soft female voice.

Even when Lily's tears finally fell out of her eyes, she did not recognize the blonde that approached.

It was Marlene! She'd come back ready to divulge her secret for having created a doppelganger, who'd died in her place! Lily leaped to her feet.

"You've been crying..." noted the blonde.

As the woman came closer with a big black dog at her side, Lily's heart rate slowed back down.

"How did you know we were here?"

"We didn't," replied Isabelle. "We thought you'd be at Bathilda's, but you weren't so we decided to come for a walk."

Isabelle Sommier looked just as proper and conservative outside of her workplace. She wore an expensive-looking tweed overcoat, her hair still twisted up and clipped back. Only now, she wore jeans.

"Cold, isn't it?" commented Isabelle, pulling her coat tighter around her. "Hopefully the rain will stave off-"

"Why aren't you at work?" asked Lily, not intending to sound rude but sounding rude nonetheless. Isabelle didn't seem to mind.

"I don't work on Wednesdays. The junior assistant takes over." The corners of Isabelle's mouth turned up in a sort of inward smirk that Lily did not want to question. "May I sit down?"

Lily nodded. As Isabelle lowered herself onto the patch of grass beside her, Lily withdrew her wand and pointed it in front of them. "_Impertuo_".

Padfoot glanced back at Lily questioningly. He'd joined his Godson at the edge of the pond.

"Sorry, Padfoot. I just don't trust you," Lily smiled. Though no-one could see it, a barrier now stood in the way of Harry and the edge of the water. When the crumbs that Harry threw bounced back at his feet, he began to whine. Thankfully, the ducks impatiently hopped onto the back and Harry was able to continue.

"Why were you crying?" Isabelle asked suddenly.

Lily swallowed. "It's just been an emotional day." When Isabelle did not look convinced, Lily continued. "Tomorrow will be one month since the night Voldemort was killed, you know, so..."

Isabelle said nothing. The two young women looked out at where the baby and the dog were running round each other, the ducks forgotten. As lunchtime approached, more muggle tourists began to appear. On the bank on the other side of the large pond, a middle-aged looking couple sat on a bench looking out at the scenery. Along the path nearby, a mother was pushing a double pram with a small white dog trailing along on a long dog lead behind her.

"We don't really know each other, do we..." Isabelle sighed, making the already strange silence just that bit more uncomfortable. "Naturally, I don't stand out as a most obvious choice for confidante, but..."

Lily turned to watch Isabelle. She looked to be thinking very hard. "You can still...talk to me. You know, about... how you're feeling. I can't say I've defeated many dark wizards, but I know what loss is like."

Lily stared at her. "Who did you lose?" she asked unthinkingly.

Before she could retract her words, Isabelle was smiling. "My father. He never knew I was a witch."

Lily frowned, feeling awful for bringing it up. Merlin, she hated talking about her own father's death. Nevertheless, Isabelle seemed to want to continue.

"No-one in my family talks about it much. That's my fault. I always laugh."

Lily blinked, shocked. Why would your father's death be funny?

Isabelle grinned. "He died in a car accident on the way to a meeting about traffic congestion." Then she began to laugh.

Lily wasn't sure whether to offer pointed condolences or laugh along with her. She saw the irony, yes, but would that detract from the tragedy of it? Perhaps laughter was a nervous habit, like it had been for Benjy...

Isabelle's laughter faded. "I knew Caradoc Dearborn as well," she sighed. Lily gawped at her, astonished. "He was my boyfriend for two years."

Lily wracked her brain for a moment, then sat bold upright, eyes wide open. "You're Izzy!"

Isabelle laughed loudly, so much that Harry and Padfoot glanced round.

"Yes, he called me Izzy. I hated that..." Isabelle glanced at Lily, who was still absorbing the fact that she was now sitting beside the mysterious girl that Caradoc Dearborn had spent hours talking about in the Gryffindor common room in their school days. "He talked about me, then?"

"Yes!" smiled Lily, suddenly delighted, as though she'd completed a tricky corner of a jigsaw. "Funnily enough, it was Sirius who imitated him the most..." Lily's smile faded, just as the memories of the Order meetings came to mind. Caradoc had stopped talking about 'Izzy' just a few months after leaving Hogwarts. Whenever Sirius or James had probed him for answers as to why his goddess had been forgotten, his comments about her turned rather sinister.

"I was a bit of a heartless wench back then..." said Isabelle, sounding upset. This was the first time that Lily had seen her in that way. "I abandoned my relationship for my career. _Stupid..._" Isabelle looked out at the lake. "Still, I'm glad I did it. As soon as I dumped him, he went a bit funny. I saw what he could really be like; sending bitter letters to me and my family... God... we mustn't speak ill of the dead..." the last part, she whispered. Lily guessed that 'we' didn't really mean 'we' at all. Isabelle quickly turned to face Lily. "I'm telling you all this to speed things up. I think... I think we're going to be seeing a lot of each other from now on." Isabelle glanced over at Padfoot, who was now lounging on the grass, curled around Harry.

"You've been dating for six weeks..." Lily said quietly, now feeling little restraint when talking to Isabelle. Undoubtedly, this was what Isabelle had been aiming for.

"I know, I know," said Isabelle quickly. "But this is different. Whenever I pictured my life without Caradoc, I saw myself being happy in some other way. With Sirius, I don't see that."

Lily did not doubt that Padfoot was listening. His ears had perked up, despite his lazy appearance.

"It's scary, you know?" Isabelle questioned. "I've never _needed_ anyone before."

Lily made a mental note to, sometime in the future, as she would surely be able to, tell Isabelle that even Animagus dogs could hear over long distances.

"Oh, hark at me! Going on and on about my life when _you _were the one crying. You must think I'm such a self-absorbed little-"

"Not at all," said Lily with a smile. "Bizarrely, it helped."

Isabelle looked happy then. Padfoot got to his feet, feigning drowsiness as he nudged Harry for him to get up. The two of them slowly made their way over to the girls.

"Is the Minister planning anything for tomorrow?" asked Lily.

Isabelle shrugged and shook her head. "The wound's too fresh, to be honest. There'll be some re-prints of obituaries and some fireworks and stuff. The one-year-anniversary will be the real party."

"Looking forward to it," said Lily wryly, standing up to collect her son. "Will you be at the graves tomorrow?"

Isabelle looked surprised to be asked this. "Yes... but only as a Ministry official. I'll see you there, though."

Lily scooped up the now crying Harry as Isabelle and Padfoot departed. It was a shame, thought Lily, that Isabelle would not be joining them. She could've done with female company.

oOo oOo oOo

When James arrived back at Bathilda's that evening, it was with a heavy heart. He stood in the fireplace for a whole minute, keeping his eyes closed, taking in how he felt. Upstairs, his son was screaming. He could hear Lily tearfully begging Harry to stop. From the bottom of the stairs, Bathilda was merrily chorusing suggestions to her to stop the baby crying (most of which involved Bathilda being in charge of childcare while Lily went to bed). The house smelt like damp old flannels now that it was raining again. Amid that overpowering must, James could smell overcooked cabbage. For one maddening minute, he thought that perhaps Sirius had instructed Bathilda to buy more cabbages to store around the house. But, as he left the dining room fireplace and passed the kitchen, he heard Bathilda's rusting old cooking pot bubbling away. Cabbage broth. Again.

Under his arm, James carried the spoils of his shopping trip. As Lily was rarely so highly-strung, it was difficult to gage how she would react to being bought gifts so close to Christmas, particularly as she had no time to focus on anything else other than Harry.

James tried to brush past Bathilda with nothing more than a polite 'hello'.

"Ooh, you've been busy, James!" beamed Bathilda, looking at the masses of bags and boxes under his arms hungrily. "What have we got here?"

"Ah, I bought some groceries!" James nodded to the blue plastic carrier bag which dangled off the end of his pulsing little finger. It contained all sorts of tins and packets from a muggle convenience store. He was relieved to give Bathilda something else to cook.

She took the bag, but still wore a sly look on her face. Upstairs, Harry was still screaming.

"What's under the blanket?" she asked with a smirk.

"Nothing," James lied.

"Is it a present for Harry?" she asked loudly, looking up the stairs as though expecting Harry to understand her words and stop crying, intrigued.

"No," James whispered. "It's a surprise for Lily,"

Bathilda's jaw dropped as though he'd just told her some deliciously scandalous gossip. Before she could say anymore, James rushed up the stairs, bashing the walls with the bags and boxes as he went.

"Lily?" he called, feeling as though he should give warning before walking in.

"_James_..." she breathed in relief. "Bloody hell, help me..."

James entered the room. Harry was squirming around on the bed, his face bright red from screaming so much.

"Harry, Harry, Harry!" James dived onto the bed beside his son and scooped him up. "What're all the tears for?"

"It's everything!" Lily squeaked, sounding close to tears herself. "His back teeth still haven't come through, he refused to eat the mulch that Bathilda served up at lunch, it's freezing cold in this room, he's bored and the damp in the ceiling is probably going to kill him!"

James glanced upwards, where the ominous black growth in the ceiling above their bed had been unnerving since their arrival.

Even so, when he registered Lily's words completely, the undertones of what she was saying did not pass him by. For now, he had a screaming son to address.

"Harry! Look what I've got!"

James slid off the bed and clicked his fingers for Harry to watch him. Lily gently pulled the wailing baby up to a sitting position and pointed to James. She, like her son, was suddenly quietly intrigued.

"Three...two..." said James slowly. A hesitant smile flickered across Harry's face. He recognised numbers.

"...one!"

James whisked the red blanket off the owl cage.

Lily stared wide-eyed at the creature James had brought home. "What in the name of Merlin..."

James had bought a huge Great Horned Owl. It was the same size as Harry, speckled and brown, with glowing yellow eyes and eyebrow-like marking that flicked upwards to ear-like tufts that made the bird look furious.

"He's called Cadwal," James grinned. "For post."

"He's... well, he's certainly impressive..." said Lily, looking a little faint. Harry, however, looked delighted. He was waving his hand in the direction of the owl cage, desperate to pet the bird. Despite the docile temperament that the shopkeeper had assured James that Cadwal had, the owl did look particularly angry.

"Let's let him out for a fly..."

"No!" Lily said quickly. "Harry might cry again! Just... just keep him in there until Harry falls asleep."

"Oh kay..." James picked up the enormous bird cage and sat it down near Harry's cot. When Harry whined that the bird was further away, James picked him up and placed him in his cot, where Harry lay flat without complaint to watch Cadwal preen his feathers.

"What are all the boxes for?" asked Lily.

"Christmas presents," replied James. He noticed Lily gulp. He could guess, from her words earlier, that she was with James in her dread of spending Christmas at Bathilda's.

"Lily..." James began softly, sitting up on the bed and pulling her down to sit on his lap. He wrapped his arms around her. "I know you hate it here..."

"It's not that,"

"Yes it is."

Lily grimaced. "I don't want to sound ungrateful..." she mumbled.

"You don't. I don't like it either."

Lily blinked back tears. James held her closer. "I spoke to Bagnold today."

"What?" Lily gasped. "When? Why? What did she say?"

James grinned. "This morning, to ask her about those 'just-desserts' she was talking about. We had a rather..." James stopped himself, knowing that a row with the Minister of Magic would not amuse Lily in the slightest. "...a rather long conversation. She'd been meaning to talk to us about The Lestranges."

He felt Lily shudder. "What about them?"

James took a deep breath. "She doesn't think they're a problem but... she wants us to... move about a bit until they're caught."

Lily looked puzzled. "What do you mean 'move around a bit'?"

"She means we should live somewhere else. And then somewhere else. And then-"

"-Somewhere else," Lily finished for him. "Great." She sounded far from ecstatic.

"Don't you see, Lily? We have a choice, now. We don't have to stay is Cabbage Castle anymore. We can go wherever, as long as we don't stay for..." James trailed off, distracted.

But who are we meant to stay with? We don't enough money to rent, though, and I don't really want to eat into Harry's fund. Isn't this all going to be a bit much for Harry?"

James, like Lily, was indeed concerned for Harry's wellbeing. However, he was not taking in what Lily was saying. When his eyes had scanned across the window for a split second, they'd been met with a sight they had not expected to see. There, just down the lane from Bathilda's house, was their old house. Gone were the hordes of tourists and visitors. In their place was one solitary figure, whom James recognised immediately.

"Lily..." James said softly, his voice wavering.

"Yes?"

He almost told her.

"Don't worry about anything now. You should get some rest. Tomorrow's going to be hard enough."

Lily frowned. "Yes, you're right..." instead of standing up from his lap, her arms went around his neck. "Are you going to bed too?"

James smiled sadly and kissed her on the lips. "In a minute. Even though I swore I'd never touch cabbage again, I am starving."

He unwrapped his arms from around Lily. She stood up, allowing him to stand before pulling off her cardigan. "Come up soon, though," she said.

James wondered how different things would be between him and Lily when they moved out of Bathilda's house and into someone else's. They had no idea whose yet, but it would likely be someone who occasionally left the house. He'd have more time alone with his family. He'd have less need to go around ridding the house of bad smells and mould. More importantly, they'd be in a house with thicker walls: a house which wasn't too old for silencing charms.

James smiled as he left the room.

Walking down the stairs, however, his smile was gone. He was now thinking of the unmistakable silhouette he'd seen standing outside his house just down the lane. He felt his wand grow heavy in his pocket.

"James, dear, did she like her gift?" asked Bathilda as James passed the kitchen.

"Yes, it was a big surprise for her," said James vaguely, walking through the dark hallway. Unfortunately for him, Bathilda came rushing out of the kitchen.

"What did you get her?"

James paused in front of the door. "An owl."

"An _owl_?! Gosh, that must have set you back a few galleons! I hope you've still got enough to spoil Harry rotten at Christmas! It's just around the corner you know-"

"Bathilda, I've got a bit of a headache so I'm gunna go out for a bit of fresh air. Just a walk around the village, nothing too taxing..."

"But- but it's pitch black outside!"

"There are street lamps, Bathilda," he said, trying not to sound sarcastic. Bathilda never left the house. He wouldn't be surprised if she asked what street lamps were.

"Oh, but it's so _cold_ out!"

"It's bracing! Nothing like it for a clearer head Anyhow, Lily's not feeling too brilliant either so she's gone to sleep. Bye!"

"Well... just come back in time for dinner!" called Bathilda as James wrenched the stiff front door open. He walked through and closed it quietly, so as not to disturb Lily or Harry. As he walked up the front garden path, he appraised the village. Nobody was around. Nobody except the figure.

It didn't take long for James to walk up towards his old house. It was odd how little sentiment he felt towards it now. His mind was focused solely on what was to happen next. The figure had not turned round, but still James knew who it was. He came to halt several yards away from him.

"Snape?"

oOo oOo oOo

_A.N: If you have just read this, then REVIEW IT. PLEASE. Even if you type just a "nice one" or "this is shit" then brilliant!_

_Also follow me on Tumblr, links on my profile. _

_Tah._


	5. Sober Hours

Snape had never looked so awful. His black hair was brittle and wiry, his face was sickly-green and gaunt. He did not glare at James with his usual malice. He simply looked exhausted, as though it was causing him a great effort to be in James' company.

"You killed the Dark Lord," said Snape stonily.

James shrugged. "Yep. Sorry for your loss."

Snape clenched his teeth. "There's no point in trying to defend myself. You wouldn't believe me even if-"

"No, I wouldn't," said James. "You may have Dumbledore in your pocket but you haven't fooled me."

Snape rolled his eyes, a smirk playing at his lips. "This is the James Potter I knew. Always right, even when he was wrong."

James fought the urge to argue further. He would prove that he'd grown up. "What are you doing here, Snape?"

Snape blinked slowly. "I came to see Lily."

James smirked. "Well clearly you didn't, because the entire wizarding world knows that we don't live here anymore."

"So how did you know I was here if you don't live nearby?"

"Protective enchantments," James lied smoothly. "We know when someone is approaching our house."

"Judging by your statement in the _Daily Prophet_, those enchantments went up a little too late. Too busy bickering to protect your precious offspring?"

James breathed slowly, forcing himself to remain composed. "What are you _really _doing here?"

Snape's breathing became slow and controlled. He looked up at the house, directly at the large crater in the roof. "I wanted to see it. It seems I am the last wizard alive to have not visited the battle ground," he smirked again. "I'd say it's overrated. Not even worth putting my cloak on for." James waited. Snape turned back round with, as James had suspected, an entirely different expression. "Think what you like about me, Potter. The war took its toll on me too. "

It was so unlike Snape to share anything personal or vulnerable with anyone, let alone James Potter. Snape had swallowed his pride in order to be true to himself in front of his enemy. James had to respect that. In fact, he decided to show the same courtesy.

"I hear you're off to Hogwarts," said James.

Snape pushed his chest out. "Yes. What of it?"

James shrugged. "Curious. Dark arts?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"What are you teaching?"

Snape chewed the inside of his lip. "Potions."

James nodded in forced admiration. It was so unnatural to act this way, it made James' skin crawl. Even so, he had to carry on.

"This time in ten years, my son will be there."

Snape could not hide his discomfort now. James saw that as Snape grew even paler than usual.

"I don't expect you to understand..." James continued. "-But for what it's worth, Lily and I are terrified for him. You must've seen how some people are treating him like some sort of deity-"

Snape scowled in disgust. "If you're expecting me to pity the boy, you-"

"Not at all!" James snapped. "I'm just saying..." What _was_ he saying? Truth be told, James's love for Harry seemed to override any sense of reason or logic that James had ever possessed. There was no way James would stoop so low as to ask Snape for anything, let alone trust him. He would have to accept, despite whatever Lily would say, that he would have to spend years sitting uneasy at home while his son was sat writing essays for Severus Snape. The idea scared him already.

"_What_?" Snape asked impatiently.

"Forget it. Doesn't matter," replied James.

There was a moment of silence. It was then that James noticed Snape's strange posture, standing rigidly with a hand behind his back. Snape seemed to notice James' suspicious expression.

"I found something in the wreckage," said Snape, pulling his arm round to view. "I believe this is yours,"

Snape was holding up a quivering white, black and ginger cat by the scruff of its neck.

"_Tuppy_!" James exclaimed, rushing forward. "You're alive!" Before James could grab Tuppy, Snape had snatched the cat back. It was then that James saw that Tuppy's pupils were wide with fear. He was trembling ferociously, as though the night air itself was frightening him.

Snape's old sneer was back again as he took a few steps backwards, away from James.

James rolled his eyes. "Give me the sodding cat, Snape."

"Why would I do that?" Snape asked immediately. "This animal looks to me as if it's been abused beyond sanity. I should report you to the Minister. _Oh_... but of course... you and her are the best of friends now. She might actually _reward _you with a _job_."

"You don't know what you're talking about," James growled. "Of course the cat looks worse for wear, he's spent the past month in a..." James wondered why Snape was rummaging around in the wreckage of their old house. He would've asked, but Snape would undoubtedly taunt him with half-answers.

"I think I'll keep the cat," said Snape, casually sliding the cat from hand to hand as though it were a quaffle. "I could donate it to Hogwarts. I'm sure they're running out of livestock with which to feed the giant squid."

"He's not my cat," said James, resisting the urge to lunge. "He's Lily's."

"I know that," replied Snape, his tone suddenly becoming cold and low. "Can you imagine what she'd say if she knew you'd come so close to rescuing her childhood pet but had failed to obtain it..._or _that I happened to stroll through the village and found it after weeks of you missing it."

James rolled his eyes. "This is boring, Snape," as quick as a flash, James whipped his wand out of his back pocket.

_Bless non-verbal magic_, he thought. Tuppy shot out of Snape's hand and collided with James' chest. He wrapped a strong arm around the cat, still holding his wand out. Snape's expression did not change.

"Don't try anything," James warned him. "If you do, Lily will know."

Still, Snape did not move. Neither of them said anything for a long time.

"I want to see her."

James laughed loudly. "Not a hope, mate."

Snape's eyes widened in fury. "_I am not your-"_

"It's a figure of speech, Snivellus, don't burst a blood vessel."

Snape was seething.

"Whatever you want from her, you'll have to get from me."

Snape's expression was a mixture of amusement and disgust.

James rolled his eyes again. "You know what I mean. I can tell you what you want to know."

Both James and Snape didn't fully understand why James had offered this. Snape certainly had no clue. He looked uncomfortable.

"Is... is she alright?" asked Snape with difficulty.

James looked down at his feet, still clutching the trembling Tuppy. "She's fine. She's..." James didn't know what he'd been about to say, but what came to mind next certainly steered his answer.

She'd lost her home, just like he had. She'd lost friends, just like he had. She'd almost lost her son or her own life, just like James almost had. There was no doubt that Lily needed James just like James needed Lily, but James had not lost his best friends. Lily had.

"She's bored and lonely," said James honestly.

Snape smiled cruelly again. "Trouble in paradise, Potter?"

"You must be as shallow and dense as you were as a teenager if you think marital bickering is Lily's biggest woe right now," said James darkly. He allowed himself a moment to bask in a private victory as Snape seemed taken aback by his words.

James, too, was coming to realisation.

"She's lost her parents and her sister. She's lost Dorcas, she's lost Alice, she's lost Marlene..." the painful memories of watching thirteen-year-old Lily and Marlene walking arm in arm across the Gryffindor common room together flooded his mind and made a lump rise in your throat. "...she lost you, too. As happy as that makes me, I don't like seeing her cry."

Snape, once again, looked torn. He was obviously pained to hear of Lily's sorrow, but the evil in him was smug that Lily had been hurt by his absence.

"I should see her," Snape breathed. "She wants to see me."

"No," said James firmly. "She's stressed. She needs sleep."

"What are you not telling me, Potter?" asked Snape in annoyance.

"I've told you everything."

Snape looked unsatisfied with this answer. "I don't care what you think is good for her," he said coldly. "She needs to see me."

He started to walk off. He brushed James' shoulder as he passed.

"Well good luck finding her, Snivellus," said James haughtily, stopping Snape in his tracks.

In the next moment, Snape was facing James with his wand tip inches from James' chest.

"Tell me where she is."

James could've laughed. Did Snape really expect him to tell him?

"If you turn up on our doorstep after the three years she's spent forgetting all about you, she'll kill you. You won't get the tearful reunion you're hoping for."

"_Lies_," spat Snape. "You just said she'd been crying-"

"Oh, for God's sake, Snape! People aren't that simple! You think she'll greet you with open arms? We've just spent our entire relationship fighting the gang of spineless monsters that _you_ joined!"

"Shut up," said Snape sharply, his wand still aimed at James' chest. "I don't doubt that if Lily were to see me again, the vicious make-belief horror stories you've spun to her about me will spurn her to cast me out," Snape glowered. "But like you said: people aren't that simple. You'll never understand-"

"Save it," James snapped. "Whatever special Best Friends Forever pact you had with Lily ten years ago that you're still clinging onto died when you and your mates savaged all the people she loved."

"_Imbecile_..." scoffed Snape. "I had nothing to do with McKinnon."

He was missing the point. He was _miles _off the point. But, funnily enough, James had little energy to argue with him.

"Is it not enough to know that she's happy?" asked James wearily. "Small victory, I know. But she's happily married. She's a Mum. Why isn't it enough for you to know that she's got what she's always wanted?"

There was a pause. Snape dropped his wand in what looked like defeat, but James was wrong. Snape swooped towards him, his arm raised, and in the next second, James was crouching on the ground with a hot pain spreading through the centre of his face.

"You punched me!" gasped James, clutching his bloody nose. "You actually _punched _me!"

"_Blind..."_ Snape hissed, grabbing James by the collar and pulling up to a standing position. "Blinded by arrogance and filthy adolescent lust. Lily could still have everything she's ever wanted with someone else... but you're too selfish and big-headed to even consider that. You might laud the idea that Lily Evans is your little trophy for conquering Hogwarts and all your pathetic little followers, but she doesn't really love you..."

James stamped his foot in anger. "Snape, you stupid bastard, don't you see?!" James said in frustration. "I won!"

Snape stared at him, fury mounting to nothing James had ever seen before. "You... _won_?"

James knew that if Lily could hear them now, she'd be angry with both of them. Lily was so much more than a prize to him, but she wouldn't have been to old Snivellus. That was what made his need for victory even greater.

"Yes," James snarled. "I won. I know it wasn't a game but it was a bloody competition, wasn't it? Us, stupid and love-struck teenage boys pining over Lily Evans. We were ready to fight to the death, remember? You knew she didn't love you but you still wanted her. Yeah, you were close to her. That was something I didn't have, right? Lily's affection? Well guess what, Snivellus! Now I have it! And it was all thanks to _you._"

James knew he was being cruel. He could hear Lily berating him in the back of his mind but at this moment in time, his furious vendetta against Snape was at its peak.

"And I love her," he said, the words tainting the air around them. The childish malice vanished, leaving nothing but a husband and his enemy. "And I get to tell her every day, whenever I want to. And you know something Snape? She loves me too."

Snape looked ready to be sick.

"You reckon I brainwashed her? Manipulated her? Lied to her? Bollocks did I. People don't do that to people they love. Yet somehow, without me pulling any of the shit that your lot pull, she fell in love with _me._ Not you. She said 'yes' to me when _I _was the one who had the balls to asked her out. She married _me._ She had _my _baby-"

Snape aimed another punch at James, but James dived. He stumbled, blood gushing from his nose, to several yards away from Snape again.

Panting, he managed to continue. "She's not going to run off into the sunset with you, Snape! She has a son with me! I'm sorry but unless you move on, you're never going understand what that feels like!"

Snape resembled a dying man. With a thick voice, like someone on their death bed, he spoke to James the last words he's say to him for many, many years: "If you're so confident that she'd _never_ leave you... why won't you tell me where she is?"

"It's not her I'm protecting..." James picked up Tuppy, who was standing shaking on the floor nearby. He glared at Snape with all the evil intent he could manage. "You're not coming anywhere near _our_ son."

James had wanted to walk off victoriously, his head held high, listening to Snape's cries of despair echoing throughout the village square before disapparating mysteriously. Instead, he heard something which made his stomach churn: Snape's laughter.

oOo oOo oOo

_"Mummy knows! Mummy knows! Mummy knows!"_

_Lily stood in the middle of her childhood bedroom, eleven years old, her entire family stood in the doorway. Her door was gone. The entire wall, in fact, had gone. The hall faced her, as did the eerily blank faces of her parents and sister. _

_Her right arm inched upwards of its own accord, a glimmering steel wand clutched in her hand. _

_"Get out of the way!" Lily screeched at her family. "Move! I can't stop it!"_

_Her parents and sister did not move. They watched her aim the metal wand at them. _

_"RUN!" She was crying helplessly now. Her family were living statues, petrified, seeing and understanding what Lily was doing but unable to react. _

_Then, when no spells emitted from the end of the metal wand, Petunia stepped forward. She was twelve, with long blonde hair and hawk-ish eyes. _

_"Lily, something's happened..." The way Petunia spoke sickened Lily. Her voice was a mixture of her own and Kingsley Shacklebolt's voice as well as Marlene McKinnon's and Lord Voldemort himself._

_"What's happened?" asked Lily in a whimper. _

_"The Death Eaters found Marlene's grandparents."_

_Though Lily's focus was entirely on Petunia, she could see in her periphery dreadful black stains appearing and spreading all over her bedroom walls and furniture as though the room was ablaze with invisible fire. _

_Because of the multiple voices with which Petunia spoke, Lily was unsure who to address. _

_"We have to hide Marlene!" she cried. "Send a patronus to her house! We have to hide her family! They'll get her too! We have to save Marlene!"_

_Petunia's blank stare was slowly replaced with a nauseating smirk. "No."_

_The metal wand in Lily's hand suddenly grew warm. Lily tried desperately to prise her fingers from around the wand as it grew hotter and hotter, but her hand was fused to the handle. _

_Lily was almost too preoccupied with her scorching hand to notice what happened next: a thin vein of red smoke had begun to seep from the tip of Lily's wand and was floating across the room towards Petunia. _

_"RUN!" Lily shrieked. "PETUNIA, RUN!"_

_But the red vein of smoke did not touch Petunia. It drifted past her head towards their parents. _

_"MUMMY, DADDY, RUN!"_

_It was too late. The red vein of smoke split into two prongs. As soon as each end had faintly touched the chests of her mother and father, they both let out piercing screams. _

_"I CAN'T STOP IT!" Lily cried, but failing to bring her arm down. Her parent's tortured screams where like ghostly moans on Halloween night. They filled Lily with terror. _

_Her parents' voices, like Petunia's had been, began to change. Amid the screams, clear as day, Lily heard the calm but shaky voice of someone young and afraid._

_"Stay close to me..."_

_Lily prayed for this nightmare to be over. Yes, she knew she was dreaming. She longed for morning to come. She forced herself to stamp hard on the floor and scratcher her own cheek with her free hand, but she did not wake. _

_The faces of her parents and sister slowly began to fall, melting like candle wax, the fleshy gloop dripping down their shirts, down their legs, pooling at their shoes to leave their blackened skulls screaming. _

Lily was wide awake instantly. She clenched her fist. Her hand was cool.

Now that she was back in the guest room at Bathilda's house, with James and Harry sleeping peacefully with her, the dream seemed silly. That did not erase the horrific image of her family's melting faces from her mind.

The room was silent but for James' heavy breathing. The street lamp which stood across the street from Bathilda's shone a very dim yellow glow into the room, showing Lily the purring cat which was curled up at the foot of the bed.

Lily smiled half-heartedly. The joyous and embarrassingly tearful reunion with Tuppy that had occurred last night had been exactly what she'd needed as a distraction from her mounting distress. However, now, it seemed that the effects were only temporary.

Feeling defeated, knowing she would not get back to sleep now, she peered around the room. On the big bureau on the left wall were dozens of framed captured moments of Bathilda's life (which James and Lily had agreed were, frustratingly, off-putting to anything intimate). There were several of her nephew, one of Lily, James and Harry, and some of unrecognisable Hogwarts pupils from Bathilda's days there. Lily didn't like to look at the pictures for long. They reminded her that Bathilda was not always a batty old woman.

Lily scoured the room again, taking in the place where she'd been sleeping for a whole month. Her dressing gown was hung on the back of the centuries-old door. The wardrobe door was slightly ajar. The slightly cracked full-length mirror reflected the bed and the ghostly reflections of James' sleeping form and the messy-haired Lily. Harry's cot was in a surprisingly immaculate condition from the explosion, as a result of the countless safety charms Lily had cast on it upon purchase. Harry was fast asleep, mouth open.

At the foot of the cot, two bright yellow eyes stared angrily at Lily.

Lily squeaked in alarm, causing the jittery Tuppy to leap several feet into the air with a frightened screech.

Lily groped around on the bedside table for her wand and scrambled out of bed, her mind racing with ideas of the vengeful Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange, or some other dark wizard who'd heard of Voldemort's defeat.

"_Lumos_!" Lily exclaimed breathlessly.

Her wand lit the room with a silvery glow.

Lily exhaled loudly. "Cadwal..."

She'd forgotten all about the enormous angry-looking owl that James had brought home mere minutes before finding Tuppy, who was now cowering behind the wardrobe. Lily looked over to Cadwal, who had not been out of his cage since his arrival at Bathilda's house and looked as though he might prey on Harry if he was not allowed to hunt for mice.

Lily tentatively walked over to the cage. "Please don't peck me," she whispered to the owl, who looked even bigger and angrier when her hand was at his cage door. "I'm on your side, alright?"

As soon as the cage door clicked ajar, Cadwal flapped his strong wings and burst from his cage. It look all of Lily's effort to not shriek. She merely threw herself out of the way as Cadwal soared across the room, now appearing to be as bit as an ostrich in Lily's eyes. He landed on the window ledge, his huge talons as sharp as knives clicking against the fragile wood and turned his head to give Lily a grunt-like hoot of gratitude before taking off into the night.

It was as though Lily became the owl herself, soaring silently through the cold night air, scanning treetops and hedgerows a mile beneath her in search of prey, or anything to curb her boredom. She pictured herself looking down at Godric's Hollow from such a height that the villagers stumbling home from the pub looked like ants, drowsily finding their way back to their nests. She imagined what it must feel like to stretch her wings so wide that the wind would take her higher, giving her views over the hills toward the ocean, where no human could reach her.

Down below, in a damp and cold cottage, her husband and son slept peacefully, safe in the knowledge that Lily would be there when they woke up. Such a thought was enough to pierce Lily's wings and bring her down to Earth, where she longed for the wind to take her higher but with her flock soaring beside her.

oOo oOo oOo

_Dear Petunia,_

_I am going to calmly assume that my previous letters have reached the wrong address. I cannot imagine why else you would not respond to anything that contained details of your sister's near-death. _

_I'm afraid I still cannot tell you where we are staying but we could arrange to meet, as I suggested in the previous letters, to discuss things. It turns out that most of the damage to our house is beyond repair after all. I will not bore you with the details of my narrow escape from death. _

_I would love to see you and Dudley at some point in the future. Please write back. _

_All my love, _

_Lily. _

Lily sat at the breakfast table with Harry sat beside her, eating his breakfast in an uncharacteristically quiet fashion. As Bathilda was still upstairs, Lily had managed to serve a bowl of well-cooked porridge to Harry. As her son's hands, face and pyjamas became messier and messier, Lily sat re-reading the letter that lay on the table. Was there a pinnacle subject she was missing out? Lily rolled her eyes as she thought of Vernon, glued to his armchair, peering over the newspaper to tell Petunia just how much of a ridiculous idea it was to send a reply to Lily's previous letters. Having Harry sitting next to her babbling away to himself made it worse. Lily longed to see Dudley again. She would be her own chance to prevent her own nephew from being raised to resent her. Why didn't Petunia seem to care about Harry? Hadn't Lily made it clear that they'd nearly died?

"What are you doing up?" asked James, walking zombie-like into the kitchen, rubbing his hair.

"Harry was hungry," replied Lily.

"I didn't hear him crying..."

Naturally, James knew all too well that Lily would have to have been awake to get Harry up before he started crying. Was there any point in lying anyway?

Lily slumped back in her chair and gave a tired smile. "Bad dream."

James frowned. "Another one?"

Lily nodded. "I'll buy some Dreamless Sleep at some point."

James walked round the kitchen table and pulled up a chair right beside Lily, so close that she could curl into him and breathe in his scent. He pulled her impossibly closer and kissed her once, twice, three times, four...

"James..." Lily breathed, chuckling slightly but still with a tone of sadness. "Bathilda will be awake soon."

"You sound like you're talking about another child,"

"Believe me, I wish I was."

James peered down at Lily, who was keeping her eyes closed. They had talked about having more children before. But since the euphoric days after Harry's birth when all they could talk about was milestones and godparents and Hogwarts supplies and how they would 'go through it all again', the only time they talked about the future was in the context of planning a battle. If they had ever mentioned more children during the war, it was in practical terms. Now that the danger was eradicated...

"We need a home, James," Lily whispered, resting her head on his shoulder. "I want our life back. I don't want to be a refugee."

James sighed, wanting more than anything to grant her wish. "You heard what Bagnold said."

"I know," she replied sadly. "I just hope the Death Eaters are caught soon."

oOo oOo oOo

Hogsmeade had been the agreed location for the burial ground of those who'd fought Voldemort. On this day, the first of December, the village was chilly, with the ground and shop roofs thick with frost. It was a clear morning. Families and friends huddled together, barely talking, all on a common pilgrimage from the train station down to the graveyard, frosty grass crunching beneath their feet. The community was respectfully solemn.

James, Lily, Harry, Sirius and Remus were some of the earliest there, beaten only by the immediate families of those who'd died. Parents, spouses and children of fallen Aurors or martyrs approached by Death Eaters filled up the graveyard, seeking out the names of their loved ones on the headstones. Fabian and Gideon's sister was there with her husband and the baby smothered in pale pink blankets. Caradoc Dearborn's father was there again in his tweed suit, balancing on a bending cane. Edgar Bones's family were there too, huddled together in long black coats. Hestia Jones, Emmeline Vance and Dedalus Diggle were huddled under a shadowy pine tree further away, wearing glum expressions. James suspected it was survivor's guilt.

"Where's Isabelle?" asked Remus as they strolled down the faint gravel path that weaved around gravestones.

"At the Ministry," replied Sirius, keeping his voice respectfully low. "Bagnold's having trouble with the muggle families of the deceased."

Nobody said much else for a long while. They read each grave stone as they walked past, receiving the watery smiles or bitter scowls of their families. The significance of the day made James wonder about how he would feel in the future. Would there always be this misery when another month passed? He dreaded to think what the year anniversary would bring.

"A terrible business," said a surprisingly loud voice close by. Out of nowhere, Albus Dumbledore had appeared with Minerva McGonagall looking ashen beside him . "A truly terrible business..."

"It's good to see you, Professors," said James. In truth, it really was. Being with Dumbledore in troubled times was like clinging to a father's knee during a thunderstorm. It did not eradicate the danger, but it quenched the fear.

"Likewise, Mr Potter. As sad as the circumstances are, I am glad of the opportunity to see the fruits of our efforts." Dumbledore smiled at Harry, who stared back at his future Headmaster. James did not inquire as to what Dumbledore was actually saying.

"How are you all?" asked McGonagall with her concerned-teacher voice.

"We're doing well, Professor..." answered Lily. "...considering."

McGonagall nodded solemnly. "Yes...well, I see your son is growing up fast," she said in an attempt to keep the conversation light.

James smiled. "Too fast. He's doing magic already, summoning his toys sometimes..."

McGonagall gave a half smile. "You must be proud."

"Immensely."

Dumbledore reached out for Lily's arm. "Mrs Potter, may you take my arm?"

Lily hesitated for a second. She slid Harry into James' arms and linked her own arm with Dumbledore's. He lead her away from the rest of the group towards the graves in the corner without another word.

"War is always sobering," said McGonagall gravely. "It's a brutal lesson in mortality. Sometimes you see the bereaved become the happiest people alive. We do not complain about the insignificant trifles once we've known loss..."

McGonagall appeared lost in thought.

"Professor? Where is Professor Dumbledore taking Lily?"

McGonagall glanced over her shoulder, where Dumbledore and Lily where approaching the furthermost grave. James had not noticed it before. It was much bigger than the others, resembling a memorial stone than a headstone.

"The McKinnon family plot," answered McGonagall just as Lily sunk to her knees in front of it. "It made sense practically to bury them in a muggle graveyard, but... Marlene and Marcus would not have belonged there... and their parents were so proud of their children that I'm sure they wouldn't have minded."

McGonagall's expression turned cold. "The same can hardly be said for Mr and Mrs Meadowes..."

James scoured the graveyard. Near the wall was a small, non-descript headstone with a man and a woman in beige overcoats standing beside it. They were not crying. They did not even look sad. They were whispering together, looking around at the other mourners in a way which made James feel oddly defensive.

He knew of Dorcas' uncomfortable family life. Her parents were worse than Lily's sister when it came to Dorcas' special abilities. Dorcas had revealed to Lily many years ago that McGonagall had almost had to drag Dorcas to Diagon Alley, her parents were reluctant to let Dorcas submit to what they thought had been a cult. However, when September had arrived, they could not have been happier to see Dorcas disappear.

"You'd think those beastly people were allergic to laughter..." said McGonagall. "Never mind. It's not as though our memory of Miss Meadowes relies on _them_."

No. It would not. They would always remember Dorcas' cheeriness, her over-sized knitted jumpers, her thick-framed glasses and her motherly habits of picking fluff of people's robes or stooping down to tie people's shoe laces in the middle of a corridor. They'd remember Edgar Bones' blue hair, his first pet frog whom' he'd bought in Knockturn Alley and named Simon, only to wake up to find that Simon had laid frogspawn in his dressing gown pocket a month later. _The Frog Breeder_, he'd been called. They'd remember Caradoc's awful puns and his chess prowess. They'd remember Marlene's razor-sharp wit, her love of anything purple, her vast knowledge of English Kings and Queens and her fierce passion for muggle music. And although they were not dead, they would remember Frank for his generosity, his loyality, his willingness to do anything for a friend, no matter how stupid, and they'd remember Alice for her happiness. She expelled sunshine from her every pore and symbolised everything that anyone could be if they had never been touched by jealousy, anger, greed or selfishness. They'd remember their golden Hogwarts days and they'd hang onto them for dear life while they weaved a golden future.

oOo oOo oOo

_A/N: Review please! And thank you for reading. Next update hopefully won't take as long. _

_N x_


	6. Fools Pushed Forward

_Dear James,_

_I apologise for not talking to you at the memorial. It would have been inappropriate and we were all feeling under the weather that day. _

_I hope all is well with you and the baby. I haven't seen you in ages. We should get together some time. You can even bring Lily if you want. _

_How are you finding life now? The war didn't exactly do wonders for our job prospects did it? (Unless you're Remus Lupin, of course. Apparently he walked straight into that ministry job just because he's chums with the Minister. Disgraceful. One war and the social structure just goes to pot.) I haven't found a job yet. I'm contemplating applying to become an auror. I think you'd be brilliant at it, too. You should go for it. We've both had plenty of practice apprehending crooks this year, haven't we? Ha-ha. _

_I just thought I'd drop a line to see how you're doing. The end of a war can make one feel so lonely, don't you think?_

_Thinking of you,_

_E. Vance x_

Lily stared at the letter, seething. James sat opposite her, saying nothing, while Lily's already-low regard of Emmeline Vance started to sink even lower.

"'Under the weather'? _'Under the weather'_?"

James shrugged. "I guess she decided to play it down."

"That's putting it bloody mildly! She's talking as though we've all just recovered from flu! _'Apprehending crooks'_? Does she mean fighting Death Eaters?"

"Sounds like it."

"Ugh!" She tossed the letter across the table towards James, who picked it up and scanned it again. "How can she say all that stuff about Remus? He was _nice _to her!"

James sighed. "To be honest, I don't blame her.

"_Sorry_?!"

"Well, OK, yeah I do," said James quickly, holding his hands up in defence. "But the last time we bought the _Daily Prophet_, it reported all that stuff about job losses and business collapses, remember? Loads of people are out of work. It sounds like Emmeline's one of them and she's all bitter about it. You know what she's like. She'd put litter in the bin and then wonder why she hadn't been made Head Girl."

"Rubbish! She's always been catty. I thought she'd changed when she joined the Order but clearly I mistook my judgment! She's still a manipulative little seductress."

James eyes her suspiciously. "Manipulative seductress?"

Lily crossed her arms defiantly. "Look at her letter. She wants you. Again."

James' mouth fell open. "Lily..."

Lily stood up, chair scraping the stone floor. "She just doesn't stop, does she?" She walked over to the kitchen sink and looked out of the window, away from him.

"Lily, come on, of course she doesn't fancy me anymore!"

"Yes she does. It's not even addressed to both of us. Oh, and let's not forget the golden line: _'You can even bring Lily along_'."

James shrugged. "Maybe she just mindlessly hates you."

"_Obviously_!" Lily exclaimed as she spun round to face him. "You're married to me! She's - she's jealous!"

It was a bizarre concept for Lily, to have someone be jealous of her. When James had dated Emmeline in sixth year, Lily had been the one who was sick with jealousy. The first time anyone had been jealous of Lily was when she started going out with James at Hogwarts. She suddenly started receiving dirty looks from girls who'd smiled at her before. Jealousy was an ugly thing.

"Exactly, Lily!" said James. "You're married to me. _Married_." He moved around the table towards her. Lily surrendered into his hold, forcing back tears of frustration.

He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly."Marriage means I'm lumbered with you. So shut it."

Lily smiled. "Romantic."

"True."

They stood there for several seconds, swaying slightly in their embrace. "Her hair is really boring," said James after a while. "And she's got horrific taste in lipstick."

Lily grinned in amusement, picturing Emmeline Vance leaning in for a kiss and James craning away from her dark purple coloured lips.

Still, Emmeline Vance had found it within herself to write a rather bold letter after having seen the end of a war. Regardless of what her letter said, Emmeline had lost friends and family. If, through all her grief and strife to move on, she was able to write a letter of decent length to an old friend, Petunia could easily take a minute out of her busy busy schedule to write to Lily.

"Lily?"

Lily had pulled away from James and was now rifling through the drawers of the bureau behind the kitchen table. "Lily, what are you doing?"

In the third drawer that Lily opened were a dozen rolls of yellowing parchment and several scratchy old quills. She grabbed one of each along with a heavily stained ink pot from the shelf above.

"It's not difficult to pen a few words," Lily justified, throwing herself back down into a dining chair and unrolling the scroll. She began to write.

_Dear Petunia,_

_I know you're thinking that if you just ignore all of my letters, I'll eventually give up. You're wrong. I've told you a thousand times and I'll tell you again: I miss you. I want to see my sister. _

_If the fact that I nearly died in a war that James and I ended doesn't worry you at all, that is fine by me. I know Vernon doesn't care but you do. I know you do. I wonder if you've told Vernon that you wrote to me twice during the war, asking how I was. _

_I just thought I'd let you know that there are still 'my sort' still in hiding that want me dead. They might even come after you, but seeing as you're experts at pretending I don't exist, I suppose you're not too worried. _

_We're moving house soon. My owl will still be able to deliver any letters you wish to send us. _

_Give Vernon my worst,_

_Lily. Your sister. _

"You take the 'passive' out of 'passive aggressive', Lily," said James.

"I don't care," Lily stood up from the kitchen table as slid angrily folded the note in half. "If this is how they want to play it, that's fine by me."

James and Lily were cautious when it came to letting Cadwal, the giant owl, out of his cage. The first time he'd been let out to flap around Bathilda's house, he'd picked up Tuppy in his enormous talons and almost flown out of the window with him. If James hadn't leapt up to grab on to Tuppy and weighed Cadwal down, Tuppy would have been prey. This now meant that Tuppy spent most of his days cowering inside a wardrobe.

"Take this to Petunia," Lily told Cadwal, who was perched on the window sill of the kitchen. "Stay there as long as you like. I want a reply."

Cadwal took the top of the envelope in his sharp beak and took flight, billowing Lily's hair as he flapped his wings.

"I think I should let Bagnold know that we're moving," decided James aloud.

"Definitely," Lily agreed. "We owe her that much," Lily tore her eyes away from Cadwal, who was now high up in the sky with the letter, and sat back down at the table. "I wonder where we'll have to go once our time with the Tonks family is up..."

James sighed. "Hopefully to a house of our own," as James thought wistfully about a big house with an enormous garden, his eyes drifted to the window again, where Cadwal was now invisible.

"Petunia's scared of pigeons, Lily," James recalled. "How do you think she's going to react to Cadwal?" he gestured out of the window to Cadwal, who was soaring high above the village. He looked to be about the size of a heron.

Lily laughed. "It's alright. I wasn't really expecting a reply anyway."

"Afternoon, dear!" sang Bathilda, waddling in to the kitchen. She was carrying a cabbage and a knife. "Did you manage to send that letter off to your mother yet?"

Lily swallowed. "It was to my sister. Yes, I did, just now."

Bathilda acted as if she didn't hear Lily's reply. She made her way over to the sink and placed the cabbage inside it.

James shot a concerned glance to Lily before speaking. "Bathilda, what are you doing with that cabbage?"

Bathilda leaped before he'd even finished the sentence. "_James_!" she gasped. "I had no idea you were there!"

James fought the grimace that he always wore when Bathilda's age showed. He'd been in the kitchen all afternoon...

"Sorry..." he mumbled.

"Oh, James, I wish you wouldn't apparate in the house. I've got an old woman's slow mind, I can't keep up with your whereabouts!"

"What do you mean?" asked James. "I didn't apparate anywhere..."

Bathilda chuckled. "It's alright, dear, I'll let you off just this once. But you could've used the stairs, you know, it's good exercise."

Suddenly, Lily leapt to her feet in a way that scared James. "Bathilda..." began Lily weakly. "Did you see someone upstairs just now?"

"Ah, James, I think you're in trouble now!" Bathilda grinned. "He wasn't doing anything unsavoury, dear, he was just watching Harry sleeping! Bless him..."

James' blood turned to ice.

"HARRY!" shrieked Lily, sprinting out of the room. James followed on wobbly legs, dread stinging his eyes. They ran up the stairs as fast as they could, groping their pockets for their wands with shaking hands.

Bellatrix, Rodolphus... they were clever. They were loyal. James and Lily had been fools. Open windows, unlocked doors, trips out in the open, sending letters... fools.

They burst into the bedroom. For one nauseating moment, James could not see Harry in the cot. He threw himself towards the cot and leant over the bar.

Harry was there, lying perfectly still, with closed eyes.

"HARRY!" James bellowed, grabbing the baby. "HARRY!"

For several seconds, the world had stopped. Then, very quietly, Harry whimpered. His eyes blinked open tiredly. He stared at his father with confusion. "Dada..."

Beside him, Lily whimpered and threw her arms around her husband and child. James stood dumbfounded. He had not known such fear in weeks. _Fool._

Had Bathilda really seen a figure in their bedroom? Had there really been a faceless stranger standing over their son's cot? The thought made him sick to his stomach.

oOo oOo oOo

It was the small things that James was noticing more and more nowadays. Since the war, since Voldemort's death, since losing any trace of the normal family life that Lily had wanted so badly for so many years, Lily had been acting differently.

She'd been happy during the war. She and Marlene had been the bright sparks of the Order, dashing around as much as was allowed with cups of tea and cheering sentiments, forcing positive vibes down everyone's throats and doing everything in their power to keep morale up. Even when Marlene sank into pessimism mid-war, Lily was still insisting on Christmas trees for the Order Headquarters, a birthday tea party for Frank and Alice's son and charming pink paper hearts to flutter like moths around her own house at St Valentine's Day. She'd even managed to stop Alice's continuous crying and drag Marlene back into their joint happiness campaign. Now, it was as though the anxiety and sadness that had crippled the others like a disease was now starting to infect Lily.

She no longer took sugar with her tea. She no longer baked cakes at the weekends. James missed the Saturday mornings where he'd walk out into the garden and find her sitting on a chair on the patio just listening to the birds. Now that Christmas was fast-approaching, James was feeling less festive than ever. Lily hadn't touched a single Christmas card or string of tinsel all month. Lily was usually Christmas-obsessed. _"Pull the cracker or we're getting a divorce_", she'd said on their first Christmas together. Now, it was as though she didn't even know it was December.

However, hope sparked in James when he, Lily, Harry and Sirius were sat in a muggle pub just a week before Christmas. They were due to meet the only decent living members of Sirius' family, though James and Lily were not entirely sure why Sirius had dragged them all the way to Somerset for a few drinks until they'd arrived. The pub was called _The Stag's Head Inn._ James had swatted Sirius round the head when they found him at a table in the beer garden.

"They've got a lot of free time these days," Sirius told them of The Tonks Family. "Ted does something to do with Muggle artefacts. His whole department have been suspended until January since no-one gives a toss about Muggle artefacts these days."

"Ouch..." commented James.

"Ah, no, see, here's the thing; Bagnold's insisted that everyone on leave gets full pay while they're gone! It's a bit of a bum deal for her because now, the Magical Law Enforcement department is losing hundreds of galleons each month and some people reckon it's all a ruse to get people to vote her in for another term of office."

"Well she'd have my vote..." mused Lily vaguely. She was not engaged in their conversation. Instead, she was gazing at the miniature faux-Christmas tree in the middle of their table. Every table had one, decorated with white pipe cleaners to act as tinsel, placed atop leaflets advertising pub Christmas dinners. Harry's eyes were fixed on it too. He was sat on James' lap, slapping the table trying to grab its branches.

"It's such a shame we couldn't go to Hogsmeade," Lily sighed. "The Hog's Head used to be lovely at Christmas."

Sirius furrowed his eyebrows. "I remember it being a bit of a hovel, actually."

Lily shrugged. "It was nostalgic."

The three of them looked round when they heard the back door open. Nobody else would dare sit outside in the cold weather, which worked to their advantage. They were able to cast warming charms and talk about magic with no-one around to see or hear. Three people approached them wearing clothes so obviously out of place that James knew that they were wizards. A gangly fair-haired man in jeans and a leather jacket that did not suit him walked in front, waving briefly. Behind him was a woman whose high cheekbones and dark eyes chilled James to the bone, but he knew from Sirius that Andromeda was polar opposite to her Death Eater sister. She wore a white vest top, eliciting perplexed stares from people at the windows of the pub. It was beginning to snow. James guessed she was swamped in several warming charms. The young girl with them wore a navy duffle coat and red boots, looking almost convincingly muggle had it not been for her bright pink hair.

"Merry Yule Tide, folks," smirked Andromeda as the young girl noisily dragged three chairs from neighbouring tables round to their own. "It's nice to finally meet you. Thanks to the _Prophet_, I feel like I know you already..."

"You're not alone," said James wryly.

Andromeda smiled. "I guess not."

As Andromeda and the young girl sat down, Ted cracked his knuckled and remained standing. "I'll get the drinks in. What does everyone want?"

"A pint of lager," answered James, eliciting a smile from Lily. He knew it gladdened her whenever he showed fondness for muggle culture. In truth, he thought muggle alcoholic drinks were disgusting. This had lead him to believe that only wizards could have invented booze, as James could never stop sipping if he had a pint of lager in his hand.

"What James said," said Sirius.

"Half a Bulmer's" replied Lily.

"I'll have a Firewhisky!" beamed the girl.

"No you bloody won't," Andromeda scolded. "You'll have a pumpkin juice."

The girl shrugged and stuck her tongue out at Harry who merely stared at her. Ted disappeared back into the pub building while Andromeda took her seat at the table, smiling at Harry. "How old is your son?" she asked.

"He'll be seventeen months old in the new year," replied Lily.

Andromeda smiled nostalgically. "Such a gorgeous age. I remember when Nymphadora was just old enough to talk nonsense to herself in her cot... the best age is two. They're old enough to understand but too young to talk back. Perfect," she ruffled Nymphadora's hair.

James looked at the pink-haired girl. "How old are you now, Nymphadora?"

"Ten. You can call me Dora."

Andromeda rolled her eyes.

James studied Dora and tried to picture a ten-year-old Harry sitting where she was. It was difficult to imagine it when Harry was bouncing on his knee. He could only picture a giant version of this chubby baby, staring gormlessly at his surroundings and saying the occasional word that made sense. He decided he was in no rush to see Harry grown up.

"Hogwarts next year," grinned Andromeda after a while. "It'll creep up on you when it's his turn, you mark my words."

"Are you excited?" Lily asked Dora.

Dora beamed and nodded excitedly. "I've already bought my owl! And Mum says I can have whichever broomstick I want! First year's going to be dead boring though, once everyone already knows which House they're in. I can't wait to try out for Quidditch and learn how to apparate and cast spells without having to say anything and duel people and brew really yucky potions and-"

"All in good time, Nymphadora," said Andromeda. "Just get through your first year, then you can start killing off your classmates."

As conversation bubbled, James' mind raced with scary and exciting thoughts about Harry and Hogwarts. He pictured coming home from a well-paying job to find Lily, tearful, running to hug him as a pale and disbelieving Harry stood clutching a Hogwarts letter in a trembling hand. Next, he saw himself standing with Harry in Quality Quidditch Supplies, taking the newest and shiniest broomstick down from its hook. James had to force the next image from his mind. He did not want to think about the Hogwarts Express, standing with Lily as the train took Harry away from them. They would be powerless. When James thought of the future, he could only picture Harry as he was now, as a baby. A baby taking off on a broomstick. A baby sleeping in a cold tower with boys he'd never met before. A baby being sent into the Forbidden Forest for detention. A baby being dragged away from them on the Hogwarts Express...

"Here we are!"

Ted was stood behind him holding a round tray of assorted drinks. He carefully placed them down on the table. James picked up his pint of fizzing amber liquid.

"They didn't have pumpkin juice," said Ted, placing a glass of clear golden drink in front of Dora.

"What's this, then?" asked Dora, eyeing her drink suspiciously.

"Apple juice. It was that or orange juice and you don't like oranges, so..."

"Is it nice?"

"Just drink it."

Nymphadora doubtfully studied her curious muggle drink as Ted sat down. "Dad..." she began. "It looks like a glass of-"

"Charming place, this!" beamed Ted at the pub. "Can't beat an afternoon at the pub with friends, can you?"

"True," smiled Lily, fiddling with the pipe cleaners on the miniature Christmas tree and bending it out of shape.

Ted's smile faded. Both he and Andromeda looked uncomfortable. "Oh, erm... I'm sorry, I didn't mean... erm... sorry."

"What for?" asked Lily.

Ted and Andromeda shared a glance, then seemed to calm when they saw that James and Sirius were not reacting. "Nothing... forget it."

James knew what Ted was referring to. It did not surprise him that Lily was confused. Lily was an expert in detecting other people's pain, but she often failed to recognise her own. He would have to talk about it later.

"It must be brilliant to be able to get out of the house," guessed Andromeda. "After... you know... after the war."

"After being in hiding?" asked Lily. "It's still a rarity."

James stiffened.

"Oh," frowned Andromeda.

Everyone took a sip of their drink and slowly put it down again.

"Sorry," mumbled Lily. "I didn't mean to sound snarky. It's just that the person we're living with at the moment is a bit old and lonely and... well, as much as I'd _like _to get out a bit, I can't help but feel guilty. On top of all that, there are still..." Lily paused, looked at Andromeda in alarm, then looked down at her drink. Andromeda grinned.

"My monstrous sister and her vile husband are still lurking around somewhere. Yes, I imagine that's enough to send anyone underground."

James stared at her. The horrible implications of meeting with Bellatrix Lestrange's sister were now obvious. How had they not thought of them before?

Andromeda chuckled. "Don't look so scared, James. I have nothing to do with Bellatrix Lestrange anymore."

Nobody said anything.

"Dora, why don't you go and take Harry to the play area?" From inside her jeans pocket, Andromeda pulled out a long, solid dark-coloured wand. "You don't mind, do you?" she asked. Before either James or Lily answered, she waved the wand around Harry. When he giggled and patted the side of his head, James recognised the spell to be a cushioning charm.

"Okay!" Dora grinned, climbing out of her seat.

"But _be careful_," Andromeda warned. "The play area is just there, so I will be able to hear _everything._"

Dora scooped Harry up from James' lap and placed him down on the ground, taking his hand. "Are you coming, Sirius?" the girl asked. Sirius looked surprised to have been asked, but pleased nonetheless.

"In a minute," he smiled. "I sense a boring grown-up conversation brewing."

Dora shrugged and lead Harry by the hand towards the swings.

Andromeda took a big gulp of her pint and grinned, wiping the foam from her lip. "It's been quite a year," she said.

"It certainly has," said Lily.

"It's been a confusing one... and a scary one," the first signs of grave thoughts flickered in Andromeda's eyes, yet her smile did not falter. In this way, she reminded James of her sister. "I can't imagine what it's been like for the two of you."

James shrugged. "It's been enlightening."

Lily snorted. "Yes, it's been quite a _challenge."_

"A learning curve," grinned James.

"Truly _illuminating_,"

"It's been hell," interjected Sirius. James and Lily stared at him, as did Andromeda and Ted. He now looked peculiarly serious. It didn't suit him. "It's been hell and you know it has."

"Yeah, we know that," said James. "But we're trying our best."

James knew that Sirius' bitterness was not directed towards him or Lily. In fact, it could hardly be called bitterness at all. He was simply throwing a line to his cousin, with whom he shared a sort of hollowness that James once understood. Since marrying Lily, it had been difficult to empathise with Sirius. Andromeda was now the last chance Sirius had of taking back a loving blood family that had been taken from him as a teenager.

"We wanted to go to the memorial," said Ted solemnly. "We went to school with lots of those dead aurors and muggle-borns," Ted took a giant swig of his drink. "But it would have been inappropriate. Nobody would have wanted us there."

"Nobody would have wanted _me _there," Andromeda corrected him. She then smiled wryly. "It seems that the older I get, the more I look like Bellatrix. Poor me."

James smiled half-heartedly. It was true.

"Sirius tells us that the Minister's urging you to find somewhere else to live," said Ted.

"She thinks Death Eaters are still after us," explained Lily.

"She's probably right," said Ted. "I never had the pleasure of meeting the Lestrange brothers but Bellatrix was mad for Voldemort. She would've died for him."

"I'm not so sure," piped Andromeda. "She's loyal, but she's selfish. My guess is that she's taken off to save her own skin now that she doesn't have Voldy to cower behind."

James glanced at Lily, then to the play area where Nymphadora had stuffed Harry into one of the swings. "We'd rather not take our chances," he said darkly, recalling the chilling moment he'd thought a Death Eater had been in Harry's bedroom. If Bathilda had really seen someone in their bedroom and they'd been a second too slow...

Ted glanced at his wife, then back to James and Lily. "We'd like to offer you a place."

Lily's eyes widened. "Sorry?"

"We'd understand if you wanted to stay with..." Ted thought for a moment. "Well, if you wanted to stay put, but we have an out-house that my mother stayed in when that lot started killing muggles. There's enough protective enchantments around it to hide the Earth. You're more than welcome to it."

Lily and James exchanged astonished expressions.

"We want to do something useful," Andromeda shrugged. "And as Christmas is coming up, we figured you'd need some space..."

"That would be... that would be..." Lily stuttered weakly.

"That would be brilliant!" exclaimed James, almost jumping out of his seat with joy. "Thanks!"

Andromeda and Ted beamed.

They did not talk about the war after that. They talked about everything and anything that they could to avoid that topic. They talked about Harry and Nymphadora, they talked about the Ministry, they talked about Ted's job and Sirius' plans, which Sirius claimed were top secret yet weren't too far off Ted's line of work, though what Sirius could possibly be doing with misused muggle artefacts was a complete mystery to James.

After another round of drinks was finished, they all decided to leave. Walking out through the car park, Ted was stumbling around and giggling. Andromeda and Lily were walking a long way ahead of the others, talking animatedly to one another. The scene pleased James.

"What do you think?" asked Sirius, coming up to James. He had been walking with Nymphadora, who was still clutching Harry's hand as she lead him towards the adults.

"Hmm?"

"The Tonks'. What d'you think of them?"

James smirked. "She's a lovely girl, Sirius, and I'm sure she'll make you very happy."

Sirius' nose wrinkled. "What are you on about?"

"Nothing," James grinned. "They're great, mate. Really. I can't believe they've offered us that out-house."

"Yeah, that was really generous of them, wasn't it?"

James stifled another grin. "Yes it was."

"And Andromeda and Lily seem to be getting along really well, don't they?"

"Yes."

"And Nymphadora really likes Harry."

"Uh-huh."

James looked back at the pink-haired girl and his son. Given the chance, she'd probably adopt him.

"So you like them?"

James gave in. "You should invite her parents round for supper, Sirius, then we can officially give you our blessing."

"What the hell are you on about?!"

"You're talking as though you've just introduced us to your first girlfriend!"

"No I'm not!"

"You are though."

"No I'm _not_!"

"Yes. You. Are."

Sirius looked around uncomfortably. "Yeah, well... they're my family. Their blood is my blood and-"

"Aww, been writing poetry again, Padfoot?"

"I despise you."

"No you don't."

The two friends lapsed into silence for a while, as they came to the main village of Dunster. Very few people were around, but the eerie silence of the town did not detract from its charm. Multi-coloured Christmas lights were hung from the tops of shops across the main square. Wreaths were nailed to the doors of little terraced cottages. Up on the hill, Dunster Castle was lit up by yellow and blue flood lights. No-where in the wizarding world quite matched it... with one exception.

"In all seriousness," said James eventually. "I'm really glad we've met them."

Sirius smiled hopefully. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," said James, watching Andromeda and Lily looking at various festive displays in shop windows. "I think Lily needed it."

Sirius frowned slightly. "I know Lily's all cooped up in Bathilda's house but she'd not in prison... she can get out sometimes..."

"It's not that," James said quickly. "It's just... Lily lost all her friends. Now she's making new ones."

"She didn't lose _all_ her friends..."

"Well, she wasn't exactly Best Friends Forever with us until seventh year, was she? I'm talking about Marlene and Alice and Dorcas. It's like..." James hadn't had the courage to envision in before. "It's like if you and Remus and Peter died. I know we sort of lost Peter anyway, but... I'd still have Lily and Harry, and that would be..." James did not finish that thought. "...but it wouldn't be the same. I'd feel like shit." The mere thought alone was enough to make James' stomach feel like he'd swallowed a rock. His life would have been much colder and darker if he'd lost his best friends. Lily and Harry would be his only comforts. He now understood Lily's loneliness better than ever.

"I hate Snape," said James at last.

Sirius looked confused again. "Snape? Why? I mean, I know why, but why?"

James took a deep breath. "I saw him. A few weeks ago, he came to Godric's Hollow. I spoke to him..." Sirius' jaw dropped. He inhaled to rattle off a thousand questions. "He wanted to see Lily and I wouldn't let him. We had an argument and... I started goading him."

"What happened?!" hissed Sirius. "Where is he now?! What did you say to him?!"

"He still wants to muscle in between me and my wife, so he's still a worthless bastard, but... I sort of threw my marriage in his face."

"So? It's _your _marriage he wants to break up. He needs to see that."

"Yeah, but don't you see? He always said I was an arrogant boastful tosser. He was right all along."

"Prongs-"

"I'm actually _sorry_ for what I did to him."

"_Prongs_!" gasped Sirius dramatically, clutching his heart. "What's _happened_ to you?"

"I know... it's sickening."

Sirius seemed to calm down. "Right, so, you hate Snape. Again. But what's that got to do with Lily?"

James sighed. "If Snape and I weren't complete wankers, Lily might still have a best friend. It's the same reason I hate her bloody sister. If Petunia wasn't such a miserable cow and I could swallow my pride once in a while, Lily would probably get to see her more."

"So... what, you're going to try and become some sort of saint?"

"Nah, there's already a St James. I'm not sure what I _can_ do. Petunia's disappeared off the face of the earth and Lily would hex Snape's bollocks off if she ever saw him again."

"So what are you saying?"

James sighed in frustration. "I don't _know_, Sirius, I'm just unloading onto you, alright?"

Sirius barked a laugh. "You're bitching."

"Shut up."

Lily spun round, looking to see how far away the others were. For the first time in a while, a genuine look of glee was on Lily's face. James was only able to give her a brief smile before she and Andromeda went sprinting down a narrow cobbled street lined with more second hand bookshops and tea rooms.

"I like your family, Sirius," said James earnestly, knowing it would secretly make Sirius' heart soar to hear the words he had never heard before. "And Lily likes your girlfriend, therefore so do I."

"With that logic, why didn't you ever like Snape?"

"Unfortunately, there's no getting past the fact that he's a snivelling wretch."

By the time they caught up with the girls, Sirius was grinning from ear to ear.

oOo oOo oOo

_A/N: Hello, yes, it's been a while but I've moved cities, started a course and all sorts of boring things. REVIEW IT PLEASE I know it's not the best chapter in the world but still.._

_N x_


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